Brutal
by saavik55
Summary: Years after Alex left, Olivia is kidnapped.  Will she survive and be found?  Will Alex be able to reach her old girlfriend in time?
1. Chapter 1

When Elliot crashed through the door, gun cocked, announcing the presence of the police in a gruff yell, he found her. At last, his eyes rested on blessedly familiar features, dark hair, wide-set eyes, crooked nose. But even as the joy of the finding washed over him, reality blackened his hopes.

She lay in a heap of twisted limbs, bonelessly slumped on the filthy cement. Even in the dim light and chaos, Elliot could tell that she had not even flinched as police poured into the old house. Fearing the worst, Elliot rushed to her side, dropping to his knees and pressing two fingers under jaw, searching desperately for a pulse. He found one. But, as he knelt protectively over her prone form, Elliot fought to choke back the anguish knotting his chest.

His fingers stretched to touch her again, to reassure himself that she was alive and warm, but they ghosted along, never quite making contact. He simply could not bring himself to touch his partner's beloved face, now filthy and mangled nearly beyond recognition. Her eyes cracked open and came to rest blankly on his face. Elliot searched for any trace of the vivacious woman he loved as his own sister. He found none. With forced and trembling movements, he rested his fingertips on her shoulder.

"Liv, you're safe. The bus is coming, Liv, just a few more moments." Even to his own ears, his voice sounded false, strained. He felt sick. Over the weeks, he had prayed, pleading with God that he would find her. And now, strangling sobs boiling just beneath the brittle sheen of composure, he regretted his pleas. This was not Olivia. This was merely a shell of his partner, a cruelly smashed shell somehow still clinging to life.

Turning back to the chaos, Elliot screamed to everyone and no one in particular. "I need a bus! She's a detective, she needs help!" A second man, body masked by a bullet-proof vest and bristling with the tools of his trade, fell to one knee at Elliot's side.

"Jesus," he breathed as he pulled the walkie from his belt. He spoke through the static, instructing the dispatcher in urgent tones. Clipping the walkie back into place, he glanced lingeringly at the woman's morbidly fascinating, brutalized body before he stood to return to his task.

The bust, led by SVU, took place in a dilapidated house, insignificant but for the business run from the shadowy basement. Women were trafficked through the dankness, some sold quickly and some lingering for the enjoyment of the house's owners and their various associates and friends. Captain Cragen had received the tip two weeks after Olivia's disappearance and handed the file over to Elliot. The detective had been distraught after Olivia's kidnapping. He threw himself into his work with manic vigor, pausing only for the barest time needed to sleep and pay his family perfunctory visits. And so Cragen handed him case after case with sad eyes, hoping that the exertion would eventually lessen Elliot's consuming despair.

All thoughts of the criminals he was there to arrest were shoved violently from his mind as he continued to hover over his partner. Despite what he hoped were calming words, Olivia remained deathly still. Her eyes were still open in slits but her gaze had wandered to a blank stare at nothing. Elliot focused intently on the slow and shallow rising of her chest, the only sign of her continued vitality. Men and women moved in slow-motion around his crouched form and the roar faded to strange silence in his ears. Only her breath was important, his singular reason for kneeling in this god-forsaken basement, and would be damned if his attention faltered. She had hung on this long. He owed his devotion to her now.

Olivia sat hunched on a barstool, leaning over the mahogany bar and her sweating glass of scotch and ice. Her eyes were closed in exhaustion and her forehead rested in the palm of her hand as she searched for solace in herself and in her drink. Her aching body screamed for sleep, for the warm comfort she could find among the blankets and pillows. But she could not force her legs to move, could not face her eerily dark and empty apartment just yet. For the moment, she just needed the kind of aloneness one could only find among a crowd of laughing and toasting people. So she sat and nursed the scotch, enjoying the calming clink of the ice against the glass, and readying herself for the short trip home.

Raising the glass to her lips, Olivia took a long sip, letting the icy temperature and the liquor's burn slide across her tongue. She set the glass back onto the bar, letting it thump down a little harder than she had intended. Head beginning to ache, Olivia moved to massage her temple with one hand but found it leaden, the effort to lift it from the wooden bar too much for her. Alarmed, her head snapped up to search the faces of the patrons crowded around her but the sudden movement caused her vision to swim. As if in slow motion, Olivia saw rather than felt her body fold in on itself and, inch by agonizing inch, slide from the stool. As she fell, her mind screamed, repeating a mantra deafeningly, over and over again: this can't be happening.


	2. Chapter 2

Darkness was her first sensation as consciousness dawned on her. Though she blinked furiously, the darkness did not abate and Olivia turned her attentions to the rest of her environment. The air was cold and still, full of the aroma characteristic of abandoned, shuttered houses. Faint sounds of footsteps and voices drifted to her ears from above. As she tried to squirm into a sitting position, chains rattled against the concrete. Icy panic made her skin crawl and she felt her ankles and wrists with blind fingers. Iron cuffs, heavy and solid, bound her limbs and she scratched her nails along their surfaces, searching for a bolt or a lock. She found only the bumpy texture of a welded seam.

The bile rose in her throat. The cuffs were welded shut, permanently attached to her body. Whoever had taken her meant to keep her. Finally, she worked her way to her knees, the only upright position afforded to her by the short chains binding her wrists and ankles to the wall behind her. With strong but trembling hands, she gripped the chains and yanked in a wild attempt to pull them from the wall. But she was rewarded only by sore arms and cut wrists. Unwilling to give up, she redoubled her efforts, straining until the pain in her wrists made her head swim. She leaned back against the wall to catch her breath and order her thoughts.

Olivia's head throbbed; sharp spikes of pain stabbed through her temple with each breath. She tried to piece together what little she remembered of how she had gotten here. The bar was all she could recall, sipping scotch and trying to forget her heart-wrenching week. She remembered her sudden weakness and her slow-motion tumble but nothing else. She struggled to control her breathing as uncertainty washed over her. She had no idea of who would do this, no notion of how long she had already been missing. Elliot had promised to see her on Monday as he headed home for a Friday night movie with Kathy and his kids. No one would notice her absence for the rest of the weekend.

The bang of heavy footsteps on wooden stairs snapped her focus back to the present and she clenched her hands into fists. Feeble, cold light suddenly illuminated the room from a single bulb. Olivia blinked at the abrupt change, squinting up at her captors. She wanted to memorize their faces so that she would have the pleasure of picking them out of a lineup later. Two figures loomed above her, silhouetted in front of the slowly swinging bulb. They were men, tall and bulky, but that was her last sight before a hood was quickly forced over her head.

Ties tightened around her throat, obliterating the last flash of dim light. She panicked, her breaths quick and shallow. A sharp prick stabbed into the base of her neck and she rose up to fight against the chains and the hands of her kidnappers, screaming and praying for help. She was shoved back to her knees and a hand pinched her nose, squeezing it viciously. She gasped for breath, mouth wide. Strong hands forced her jaw to its limits and tape wound its way around her head, gagging her and muffling her screams. More and more tape was applied to the bag until she could barely move her now aching jaw. Tight rounds also pressed against her tightly shut eyes, ensuring that no glimpse of her situation would penetrate.

She fought to free herself from the hands grasping her and the iron tying her down. But as she tugged and squirmed, she could sense her coordination breaking down. Movements she intended to be forceful turned into ungainly flops and twists until the most she could manage was a twitch of her fingers. Once she lay heavily on the cement, her fight drugged out of her, she heard the rustling of clothes and felt the coldness of steel against the skin of her arm. With the sound of metal slicing through cloth came the horrifying knowledge that she was being methodically stripped.

Hands under her arms dragged her to her knees and held her upright by a grip on her throat as her chains were rattled and finally unlocked. As she was dragged across the concrete, she wished that she could fight or shiver or bite, spit, howl, anything but lie limp in a stranger's cruel grasp. But, as she was dumped onto her back, she reined in her panic, focusing on her struggle to breathe. She wanted to be ready to use the smallest mistake to her advantage. But for now she had no choice.

Fingers caressed her in a mockery of tenderness, brushing across her nipples and down over her stomach. She could make out faint growls of appreciation and a low voice through her hood. Her chin was lifted as she felt more metal sliding beneath the back of her neck. Nausea took hold of her as she realized what they were doing. A second piece of iron was slipped over her throat, its width digging into her collarbones and under her jaw, forcing her neck to lie as straight and long as possible.

Intense heat scorched her left ear as the roar of a welding torch touched the metal, slowly but permanently melting the two halves of the collar together. Tears stung her eyes as she sobbed in her hood, fighting for air despite the tape gag sealing her mouth. The torch was applied to the other side before the heat finally receded.

A mouth pressed against her ear and murmured in a vicious and gravelly voice. "You're ours now, detective. I didn't appreciate you stealing some of my darling girls, you know, so I figured that I deserved to be reimbursed. You know, it's my due." Olivia shuddered internally as he ran his finger along her jaw where her skin met the iron edge. Now she remembered the voice. This was Vladimir Rominov, a dealer in eastern European women or girls. His henchmen would tour the countryside of former Soviet Bloc nations, promising poverty stricken young women scholarships to American universities. But once they were in the States, clutching phony passports, Rominov locked them away until he sold them to the highest bidder. She had rescued a few of the girls from lives of abject slavery but had never managed to dig up enough evidence against him to make a charge stick. He was, after all, a very powerful man.

Sickeningly, as he spoke into her ear, she again felt the now familiar sensation of cold metal against her skin. More iron was slipped under the small of her back and met with a similar piece resting over her belly. The pieces were pressed together, pitilessly crushing her abdomen as the torch was relit. Sobs choked her as the pieces were made into one solid band, constricting her waist impossibly tightly. Bright flashes appeared behind her eyelids as her pain and shame engulfed her consciousness. But a sharp slap against her lolling cheek forced her back to reality.

Hands on her collar and on her waistband hauled her from the table. As her feet touched the concrete, she tried to struggle and to her overwhelming surprise and relief, her legs moved. With renewed vigor, she wriggled in a desperate effort to escape but the grasping hands were immovable. She was slammed against the wall, her hip and shoulder connecting with the cement block wall with bruising force. Her weak legs tried to buckle but she was hauled back to her feet. Chains rattled against the wall and she felt a different pressure pulling at the back of her collar. Slowly, the pressure increased until her toes grazed the floor with just enough contact to keep her from strangling.

She breathed frantically through her nose as she fought to stay conscious despite the iron pressing against her windpipe. The thought of hanging to death before throwing these bastards in prison incited her and she resolved to make it through this. She couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces as she slammed the cell door shut.

The chain binding her wrists was short, pulling her arms uncomfortably behind her back, but hands forcing her elbows together made her teeth grit in pain. More chains bound them until they met and the bones ground together. Lips once again pressed to her ear and a hand balled into a fist with her breast pressed inside. "See you tomorrow, detective," Rominov snarled. "Then we'll see what I can do with you."

He released her flesh and she heard his footsteps recede. Once the door slammed and she heard the bolt slide home, she knew that she was alone. But all thoughts of escape were pushed from her mind as she teetered on her toes, balance hindered by the painfully short chain linking her ankles. She refused to die this way.

Olivia's entire body ached. Her shoulders strained as she tried to move her arms to relieve the pain radiating from her crushed elbows and swollen hands. She was on the verge of collapsing, her toes and calves struggling to relieve the choking pressure on her throat. Her breath wheezed in her chest. She didn't know how long she had been chained in this position. She didn't know how much longer she could stand this torture.

The door at the top of the stairs banged open. Footsteps approached her and, suddenly, the chain holding her up was released. She collapsed, exhausted muscles refusing to support her any longer. Deep laughter filled her ears, echoing deafeningly in the dank basement. "Look at her," a voice roared. "What a weak little cunt!"

A yank on her chain leash dragged her struggling form across the floor and, as she choked for breath, flung her onto her knees. Steel ripped through the horrible bag, easily slicing through the tape and cloth. Olivia worked her sore jaw and took her first unhindered breath in hours. Squinting against the bare light, she took in the three men standing around her, looming menacingly.

The man she recognized as Rominov balled his hand in her hair, forcing her to lean back as the iron collar prevented her from moving her head. An unrecognized man bent down and held each of her breasts in his hand, squeezing and appraising them. His hand traveled over her body, touching and testing the muscles of her arms and stomach. Hooking a finger in the corner of her mouth, he pried open her mouth to inspect her teeth. As he released her cheek, she pulled back as far as possible and spat into his face.

Rominov snarled and tightened his grip in her hair until she thought it would tear from her scalp. He drew his hand up to backhand her and was stopped short by a touch from the strange man. "No, I'll deal with her. I like my girls to be spirited. Well, at first at least. I think I'll have fun breaking this one."

The Russian shoved her harshly to the floor as he and the stranger stepped away. After a few minutes of bargaining, a briefcase exchanged hands. Rominov opened it and Olivia could glimpse what looked like stacks of bills. He snapped the case shut and shook hands with the stranger – her purchaser – before smilingly gesturing to his waiting minion.

Without a word, he gripped Olivia's collar and heaved to her feet. He marched her on shaky legs up the wooden stairs while the others followed leisurely. He led her by her chain leash as quickly as her cuffed legs could hobble, chuckling at her ineffectual struggles. With muscled ease, he shoved her through a doorway into a bleak room. There was a narrow bed and a chest of drawers in the corner. A variety of vicious instruments and whips hung on pegs along one wall and hooks and bolts adorned the rest of the otherwise bare room.

Olivia landed hard on her knees but immediately struggled to her feet. Unable to make it to the door before it was slammed behind the still chuckling man, she threw herself against its unyielding surface. She shouted, her voice loud in the miserable room, and demanded that they let her go. They were assaulting a cop, she yelled, but received no response. Finally, she hobbled to the bed and sat down on the edge, resting her aching legs for a moment as she went over her surroundings, searching for a chance for escape. Other than the door, she spied no vulnerability, no possibility of flight.

A few more moments passed before a key turned in the lock. She rose to her feet in preparation. Her new owner entered calmly, shutting the door firmly behind him before turning to face her. She stood as authoritatively as possible with her arms bound and her jaw held uncomfortably high by the tight posture collar. Forcing her body to stop its violent trembling, she looked him in the eye and spat, "Who are you?"

He laughed, real joy lighting up his eyes. "As far as you're concerned, I'm simply Master. You will call me this. Anything else and you will be punished. Now, any more questions or should we begin?"

She hissed, "Let me go now and I'll ask the judge for leniency. Maybe he'll find it in his heart to let you just rot in jail." She stared him down as he calmly walked to her. Before she could say another word, however, a brutal backhand smashed into her cheek, the force knocking her back onto the bed.

"I warned you," he said serenely. "You will learn to behave. It is your choice, you know, the hard way or the easy way." From her prone position, she glared up at him, daring him to do his worst. He pulled her back to her feet and, extracting a key ring from his pocket, he unlocked the chain binding her elbows. As soon as she was relatively free, she lunged at him, attacking with her forehead and her knees. However, anticipating his property's actions, he stepped aside and she sprawled onto her knees, wincing at the pain.

With deceptive quickness, he grabbed her collar and lifted her until her toes scrabbled uselessly at the floor. As she choked, her own weight cutting off her air, he looked into her fiery brown eyes. "The hard way it is, then. I guess we'll get started." He carried her across the room and threw her to the floor.

With practiced movements, he locked her collar tightly to a ring in the floor. He straightened and she lashed out with her chained feet, hoping to knock him over, but, her vision hampered by her position, missed. He ignored her and pulled a length of chain from a pulley on the ceiling. Wrapping the end around the cuffs binding her wrists, he tugged on the pulley, stretching her arms excruciatingly high. Her eyes rolled as pain exploded in her shoulders and nausea once again swept over her body.

More metal slipped over the backs of her knees and they were yanked further and further apart as the strain in her hips grew. He bolted them in place, leaving her painfully stretched and with her genitals humiliatingly exposed. She heard rather than saw him walk unhurriedly about the room, heard his steps stop before the rack of instruments. After an unbearable pause, his footsteps resumed and a bent knee appeared in her line of vision.

She craned to look up at him and he smiled as he shoved an enormous gag against her tightly closed lips. When she refused to yield, he pinched her nose closed until she was forced to take a breath. With one swift motion, he shoved the long gag between her lips. It pressed disgustingly against the back of her throat and she fought against her gag reflex. The phallus stretched her jaw wide, causing the iron collar to cut into her skin. Straps wound around to the back of her head and she felt a lock click, fastening it too tightly into her mouth. She groaned, shame and desperation coloring her tan skin as thoughts of freedom began to fade from her hopes.

He bent even nearer to her face, pulling her hair to force her to look up at him. "Let tonight be your first lesson, cunt. I am your new master and you will learn to obey me. If you do not, you will be punished. This is your punishment for disrespecting me." He shoved her face back to the floor and stood, his heavy footsteps thudding menacingly as he walked to stand behind her.

Olivia tried to follow his movements but could only catch partial glimpses of planted feet. Her ears, however, were unobstructed and an involuntary shudder ran through her body at the sharp crack that split the air. A second later, a cool breath of air tickled her skin just before she heard a second crack of the whip. And the pain followed, cutting through the delicate and sensitive flesh between her legs. She dug her teeth into the gag, struggling to reign in her scream of sudden pain.

A second stroke landed just to the side of the first and Olivia ground her teeth against the phallus, growling in pain. She tugged uselessly at the metal binding her as a rain of lashes welted her fragile flesh. Soon, the metallic tang of warm blood filled the air and, with each whip stoke, red flecks spattered her legs and the floor. Screams formed high in her throat gradually grew to wails of agony ripped from deep in her chest. But her torturer ignored her writhing except to adjust the chain stretching her wrists toward the ceiling, tightening it so that her writhing wouldn't upset his aim.

Her vision began to blacken at the edges and she let her head loll, the coolness of the floor almost a comfort to her. The pain between her legs began, not to fade, but to seem as if it was someone else's pain and she was only a silent observer. Under the crack of the whip, her dulled senses nearly failed to register a second set of footsteps approaching her with a measured gait.

Something tight was wrapped around her left arm, high above the elbow. Meaty fingers probed her arm, squeezing and tapping. Realizing what was likely about to happen, Olivia jerked her arms, fighting to extract them from the crushing grasp. Bound as she was, though, her struggles failed and she was rewarded by the sharp stab of a needle in her arm. A burning substance ran through her vein, spreading fire down the length of her arm. As she twitched and shook, the man with the needle turned to her master. "Half a gram, just like you asked," he chortled before exiting the room.

Only as the door slammed shut once again did Olivia's bruised mind realize that the whip had stopped. Fingers tenderly caressed her shredded flesh, pinching and exploring her ruined folds. Olivia could do little more than shudder in protest and disgust as her blood was smeared across his fingers.

His hands left her body and he knelt by her head once again yanking at her hair. Unable to turn away, she stared blurrily up at his smirking face through fluttering eyelids. He grinned widely as he saw that, even after her first lesson, his bitch still had fire in her eyes. Slowly, he showed her the item he had concealed, dangling the roll of wide silvery tape from his index finger and taking pleasure from her brief flash of fear.

With exaggerated gestures, he peeled the edge of the tape up and drew out a length. Almost lovingly, he pressed the extended tape over her eyes before winding it jerkily around her head. Around and around the tape went and soon Olivia could not make out a glimmer of light through the cruelly and unnecessarily thick layers. He tossed the roll onto the floor and bent low to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. She flinched and he laughed softly in her ear. "Have a nice night, detective. I'll see you in the morning. And I hope you enjoy the meth I bought for you. I like my bitches to have the best, you know." With a final, chaste kiss, he stood and exited the room, slamming the door violently enough to make Olivia jump in her bonds.

Cold terror froze her heart. Her body screamed in pain and her mind reeled with the torture this psychopath had inflicted. And, soon, the rapid pounding of her heart roared in her ears and her hands shook uncontrollably. Tears squeezed from between her sealed eyelids as the amphetamines took hold of her body, making her tremble and panic with an intensity she had not before thought possible. Thoughts of escape began a faint memory as she instead used all of her strength to ward off the engulfing horror pricking at her too-alert body and mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Olivia's eyelids fluttered as exhaustion and amphetamines battled for control of her mind. Even the pain of the slightest movement could not overcome her limbs' uncontrollable twitching as her body screamed for more drugs and for release. Her thoughts came in bursts and confused bunches separated by spells of deadened silence. Images of her friends' faces were clear and then grotesquely twisted into the faces of demons and monsters. Her heart raced and the blood rushed in her ears as muscles spasms wracked her tightly bound form. Through her crazed thoughts, however, Olivia still registered the creak and slam of her prison's door and she whimpered into her gag.

A now familiar grasp tightened in her hair and forced her blind gaze upwards. "Good morning, darling. I trust you had a restful night." His throaty voice rasped into a cruel laugh as he released his grip and Olivia let her temple fall to the floor. Without warning, the chain stretching her wrists toward the ceiling was released. Olivia moaned and her eyes rolled dangerously far back as the resumption of blood flow sent stabs of blinding pain through her limbs.

Olivia collapsed in a mixture of agony and relief as her knees were similarly released. More footsteps and voices entered the tiny room but she could hardly twitch in response as she focused on the relatively easy breaths flooding her aching chest. She trembled from cold and thirst and silently begged for another injection to sooth her strained nerves. Olivia was sickened by this new humiliation; she had never touched drugs. Growing up in the shadow of her alcoholic mother, Olivia had conscientiously avoided all addictions. But now, her treacherous body craved the drugs forced upon her with such intensity that she could hardly think of anything else.

Hands unlocked her collar from the floor and hauled her across to the cot where she was deposited unceremoniously. The movement antagonized her aching joints and she bit the gag still choking her against the pathetic moan that threatened to escape. More hands touched her and, struggling to focus her scattered thoughts, she strained to wriggle away from the touch. Rough laughter burst above her and, praying that she could trust her senses, Olivia lunged, knees first. She connected with solid flesh, though her glancing blow did nothing to disable her captor. Gasping for breath after her exertion, Olivia crumpled back onto the cot as more laughter flooded the tiny room.

"You've got yourself a fiery one, Boss," chuckled an unfamiliar voice.

"Yes, well, she'll learn soon enough," rumbled her owner's deep voice. A hand pressed against the iron circling Olivia's neck, pressing her mercilessly down onto the cot's unforgiving springs. "We've got some work to do now, bitch," he growled. "But you'll regret that pathetic attempt once we're finished." The pressure was abruptly released and Olivia once again struggled for air.

Multiple sets of hands deftly moved over her body and Olivia writhed weakly as more chains wound round her limbs, tightly lashing her to the bed. Soon, she could merely breathe and choke off her own desperate whimpers as her mind filled with the possibilities looming in her immediate future.

The coldness of alcohol swabs chilled and stung the mutilated flesh between her legs and over the skin of her breasts, abdomen and her feet. Her stomach lurched in revulsion at the intimate touch but she controlled her nausea and tried to stay as calm as she could. She refused to let any opportunity pass her by, to miss any tiny mistake her captors made that might allow her to escape.

Her left breast was grasped tightly, fists squeezing tightly around its base, and she felt cold steel press sharply on either side of her nipple. Olivia choked on her breath as she gained an inkling of what was about to happen. The chilly rasp of steel on steel whispered in the uncomfortably quiet room and the blades snapped together before the agonizing sensation reached the brunette's reeling mind. Thoughts of escape, longing and fury were swept from Olivia's mind by the excruciating pain that seemed to stem from every part of her body.

She shuddered for a long moment in her chains before blessed blackness crept over her consciousness and she fainted. Too soon, however, Olivia was dragged back to reality by a pungent scent and a sharp slap across her cheek. She lay limply, the pain too much for her mind and body to bear, and wished desperately to float back into nothingness. She flinched as she felt a prick in her elbow. Her eyes rolled as the meth was pushed burningly into her bloodstream and her chest shook with sobs as she knew that her wishes would go unanswered. With amphetamines flooding her system, Olivia knew that she would not be able to black out, no matter what new agonies her captors inflicted.

A searing heat singed the air near her mutilated breast before sizzling and the scent of burning meat filled Olivia's senses. She ground her teeth against her gag and screamed raggedly as her wound was cauterized. Her eyes rolled violently and her already exhausted muscles strained uselessly against the chains but the blackness did not come and Olivia remained painfully conscious.

The procedure was repeated on her right breast. No matter how desperately she prayed and wished and pleaded, her mind refused to allow her escape into unconsciousness. Once the agony had faded into intense throbbing waves of pain, Olivia's muscles slackened weakly. Unbearable shame flooded her entire body. She was no longer a police officer, a strong professional woman; she was a victim, weak, unable to resist, unable even to move.

Soon she felt the nauseatingly familiar sensation of steel blades against her flesh. This time, the metal pressed between her legs, surrounding her clitoris. Her body tensed in anticipation and horror a split second before the blades snapped shut. The pain was indescribable, hardly even qualifying as agony. Rather, her senses simply shut down as she convulsed and sobbed incoherently. Only the renewal of the horrifying scent of burned flesh in her nostrils let her register that they had burned her again. The pain was already too much for her overloaded nerves.

A tube snaked between her cracked lips and the choking gag and cool water trickled into the back of her throat. She spluttered feebly before forcing herself to swallow. Her parched, raw throat swallowed the soothing liquid and she was disgustingly grateful for this small relief. Too soon, the tube was pulled away and Olivia, too weak to struggle any more, resigned herself to whatever new torture she was to suffer.

Strong hands pressed against her abdomen, stretching the skin above her iron binding taught and flat. Familiar heat radiating from fired iron hovered above her flesh for a brief moment before it was pressed down with horrifying intent and precision. Olivia's breath came in short, pathetic gasps, though she felt she hardly had the strength to inhale her next mouthful of air. She hardly even responded to the brand scorching her flesh, too exhausted and plagued by suffering to register another sensation. Instead, she wordlessly begged for death, pleading and imploring God to kill her with confused and bleary prayers.

She received no answer to her cries for peace except for the seemingly deafening bang of metal on metal. The fresh wave of pain only dimly reached her mind, almost caressing her deadened senses, as the crunch of bone and flesh echoed faintly. With a strange sensation of utter detachment, Olivia understood that her foot had just been brutally maimed but she could not bring herself to care. Unfocusedly, Olivia recognized that her other foot had been subjected to the same mutilation.

Too fatigued to form a coherent thought, Olivia's mind drifted aimlessly, awash in a mix of anguish, shame, and overwhelming exhaustion. She inhaled only the barest amount of air to stay alive, unable to gather the strength or will to struggle as snot and saliva threatened to completely cut off her already precariously free airway. Thick fingers wrestled with the lock binding the gag in her mouth and finally drew it away, allowing Olivia to breathe more freely, though she made no further movement or sound. She did not even hear the retreating footsteps or the slam of the door as her torturers left her alone with her agony.

Minutes or days passed as Olivia drifted in and out of semi-consciousness. The time was broken only by visits from her captors, bringing supplies to prevent infection and periodically injecting her unresisting body with amphetamines. Water was a blessed relief, cooling her burning throat, but the rest of her body continued to scream in agony.

Her thoughts drifted uncontrollably, filled with hellish images of demons and terrifying monsters ripping the flesh from her bones. Her world was one of haunted blackness and waves of varied pain, uninterrupted by sleep or by real consciousness. She could hardly remember anything but this existence, could barely even recite her own name or imagine the faces of anyone but her captor. Sometimes she cried silently, tears wetting her blindfold and spilling down her cheeks. More often she simply let her mind go blank and resigned herself to her future.

When her blindfold was finally removed, Olivia hardly had the strength to blink against the sudden light. Probing hands explored her body, examining her wounds. Deep voices filled the room and, though she looked weakly up at the men standing over her, Olivia could not understand the words. They agreed upon something and the chains binding her in place were loosened and removed.

"Get up," a booming voice commanded. "Get up, bitch!" Her collar was yanked and her feet only briefly touched the floor before she collapsed, her muscles too feeble to stand. The man snarled and seized her by a handful of her short hair.

As she was dragged from the room, Olivia moaned and her voice cracked piteously but her uncoordinated efforts to resist did no good. With little ceremony, she was hauled into a bathroom and dropped into a porcelain bathtub. The man turned on the tap and the tub began to fill with icy water. Olivia whimpered and writhed weakly away from this new torture. But heavy hands held her cruelly in place as she was scrubbed ruthlessly clean. By the time she had been dragged out of the water, Olivia felt as if her remaining skin had been scraped from her body.

They dragged her back to her prison, though she shivered violently in the cold air, and threw her to the floor. A bowl of something was dropped to the floor near her before the door once again slammed shut, leaving her alone and trembling in the dark.

Olivia had eaten, had shuffled awkwardly across the cement on her knees until she could slurp from the bowl on the floor. She ate as quickly as she could, without taste or pleasure, her only aim to fill her aching stomach before the men decided to take it away. Finished, she slumped bonelessly against her cell's wall and surveyed her condition for the first time in days.

When she looked down at her own body in the dim, cold light, Olivia struggled to fight the urge to vomit. This could not be her body. Bloody wounds covered her flesh, the horrible remains of her once beautiful breasts making her turn her eyes away in disgust. And she now saw that the burn on her stomach, now shiny and raised, was some sort of brand in the shape of two intertwined letters. But most grotesque were her feet.

The pain she only vaguely remembered came rushing back in an intense flood of overwhelming sensation. She heard the nauseating crunch of bone and metal on metal echo in her ears as she stared at her mutilated feet. Thick metal bars pierced through each foot's arch, held in place by enormous metal spheres. She was effectively hobbled. There was no possibility that she would be able to walk with the terrible instruments in place.

Eyes turned to the ceiling to avoid any further glimpse at her disfigured body, Olivia let shame wash over her. In a matter of days her captors had taken everything from her, her freedom, her womanliness, her athleticism. They had taken everything and left her trapped in a horrific and useless shell of a body. With trembling motions, Olivia let herself slide further down until she lay curled on the cold floor. Tears fell slowly across her cheek to puddle on the cement and she drew her knees toward her chest. She closed her eyes and let her sorrow and shame carry her away in the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Olivia choked as her rapist thrust deeply into her mouth, pressing against the back of her throat and cutting off her airway. Strong hands gripped the sides of her face with crushing force as he withdrew and thrust again and again as deeply as he could. Olivia felt blackness begin to cloud the edges of her consciousness as she struggled for air, but before she fainted, the grip became tighter and disgustingly hot liquid flooded her mouth. Desperate to breathe, Olivia swallowed, ignoring her growing nausea. She was ready to do anything if he would just leave her alone. Finally, he released her roughly and pulled away. Exhausted, Olivia hung in her bonds and prayed that this ordeal would end soon.

They had left her in her prison for a long period of time, though Olivia could not know exactly how long. Lying on the cement in the blackness, it had felt like months of painful solitude. But, the rational side of Olivia's mind convinced her that it could not have been more than a few days. When the door finally swung open and rough hands clawed at her, however, her time alone had seemed far too short.

Once again she was viciously bathed but instead of being returned to her prison, they had dragged her to a new room. After her time alone, Olivia had recovered some of her strength and she used it to struggle against her captors as they shoved her before them down a long hall. They threw a door open and kicked her inside, ignoring her weak protests, and she collapsed to lie on more cement.

Gentle touches on her shoulder startled her and she shrank back. Olivia scrabbled feebly across the floor until she reached a wall. Pressing herself against its solidness, she took a moment to survey her surroundings. To her surprise, she was met with another woman's concerned face.

Quickly, she glanced around the room and registered the presence of several other women bearing varied injuries and restraints. Before she could ask a question, however, the woman crouched before her laid a hand on her arm and spoke.

"Shhh, it looks like they really hurt you. I am Katya and these are the other women who have been kidnapped by these men. What is your name?" She looked young, much younger than Olivia. She had pale blonde hair which hung limply over her shoulders and spoke with a heavy Russian accent.

Olivia gave Katya her name but was interrupted as the door slammed open once again. Katya shrunk away from the sneering man who entered menacingly, crawling to join her comrades huddled in the far corner. Olivia remained in her place; even crawling made the pain in her ruined feet almost too intense to bear. Besides, she had no intention of giving these humps the satisfaction of willingly showing weakness. She was Olivia Benson, after all. She still had some fight left in her.

Smiling evilly at the defiance flashing in his captive's brown eyes, the bulky man leaned down to wrap a meaty hand around the short chain bolted to her collar. As if she weighed nothing, he hefted her into the air until they were eye to eye. Her feet dangled uselessly over the floor and she grimaced at the stench of his foul breath wafting over her face.

"We were going to keep you for a little more training but I think our guests might appreciate something with a little fire tonight. Most of our product is so docile once they've been trained. I think we'll just let you have your debut tonight." He laughed cruelly in her face before he dropped her once again to the concrete. Her eyes rolled a little as pain exploded in her feet but she fought against it. There was no way that she was going to black out and let this bastard have his way without a fight.

He returned to kneel on the concrete beside her and dropped a variety of items with a clatter. With a shove, Olivia was pushed to lie on her face. She resisted with a growl, writhing away from his grasp but to no avail. He simply chuckled and dragged her back to lie before him as he seized a length of chain. With one large hand, he wrestled her arms together at the elbow and wrapped the chain about them until every movement caused the bones to grind against each other.

As he held her mercilessly pressed against the cement, Olivia hissed and spat at him. He ignored her and her beseeching eyes turned to the women huddled together at the opposite side of the room. They stared with wide eyes at the scene before them but were unmoved. From their lack of reaction, Olivia could only assume that this was not the first time they had witnessed another woman manhandled. Though a small voice in Olivia's mind begged them to help her, to at least try to resist these bastards, the cop in her was almost glad. No matter what happened to her, at least she could still protect and serve.

The rattle of more chains interrupted her thoughts and forced her back to reality. Her captor had bent her knees and brought her ankles up to press against the base of her thighs. With the same lack of mercy, he lashed each ankle to the corresponding thigh, looping chains around her bound limbs and locking them in place.

With practiced movements, he dragged her to rest on her knees despite her hissing and struggling. The item that he picked up, however, make Olivia choke on her own resistance. He held a black leather hood, the type that would allow her no sight. Real fear touched her heart like a stabbing icicle and she renewed her struggles in terror. So long as she could anticipate what was coming, Olivia retained some of her former confidence and defiance. Without her senses, however, she was afraid, more afraid than she had ever been.

He jerked the hood over her head, slapping her across the cheek as her struggles impeded his actions. Finally, the hood was snugly over her head and the laces pulled too tightly against her flesh. She saw only blackness and her sense of hearing was muffled. Even her breathing was restricted and she panted through her mouth, heart racing in terror. She strained to listen to the movements of her captor, to gain any clue about what was happening to her, but could hear only the rush of her own breathing and the roar of her pounding heart.

As she gasped and trembled, metal was shoved in between her teeth. She fought to shove it away, struggled to turn her head away from this unwanted intrusion, but earned herself only another sharp slap. Soon, her jaw began to be forced open by the dental gag that was firmly lodged behind her teeth. Her joints screamed in protest as the gag forced her jaw beyond its limits and tears began to wet the inside of the horrific hood. Jaw near to dislocation, limbs bound so tightly that meaningful movement was near impossible, Olivia felt her spirit begin to waver. Until this point, she had managed to nurture some small measure of hope. But now, as hands dragged her away, she felt her hope begin to die in earnest.

She was dropped to the ground after a long ride in some sort of vehicle. A violent yank on her leash caused her to fall forward but the insistent pulling did not cease. She was forced to crawl after a fashion, balancing on her cruelly bent knees and one shoulder pressed against the carpet. As she slowly progressed towards her unknown destination, she became gradually aware of the dull roar of crowds of people talking. Gradually, the roar changed and she realized that they were roaring with laughter and she could only assume that they were laughing at her, at the broken thing she had become. Her shame welled with each shuffling movement and hands began to touch her as she was nearly dragged through the crowd.

Finally, the drag on her leash was lessened and Olivia fought to catch her breath after her exertion. Her relative peace was short lived, however, as strong hands grasped her arms and shoulders. She was dropped to her knees and her reeling mind realized that something cold and large was positioned at the entrance to her vagina. Understanding what was about to happen, she resisted, throwing her body from side to side, struggling to escape the many hands that were now pawing at her body.

Her torturers were too strong, however, and soon they were pressing her down onto the phallus. As it entered her abused body, Olivia screamed. It was far too large and unforgiving as she was shoved onto it. She felt as if it would split her into two. Finally, she was released and she feebly tried to squirm away from the torturing device, but to no avail. Soon, her neck was bolted to the wall behind her and she could no longer make any movement but to gasp for breath as she sobbed into her hood and listened to the continuing roar of laughter.

Weakly, she sagged in her unrelenting bonds. The last glimmer of her hope died as she felt hands and more foreign metal probing her anus. Even as the metal slid brutally inside her, Olivia hardly responded, too despairing to continue her exhausting and useless resistance.

Agony ripped along her nerves and her body stiffened involuntarily, arching violently against the chains holding her in place. The pain radiated from the probe her captors had inserted into her anus, which she realized was feeding electrical shocks into her sensitive flesh. As the anguish subsided, Olivia slumped trembling against the wall and more tears poured from her eyes to dampen the leather. It was too much, too much for her to bear.

Dimly, as another shock ripped through her body, she sensed hands grasping her head. As she convulsed, a soft penis was shoved into her mouth and she choked as the unknown man thrust until he finally came and pulled away. Too soon, before she had even regained her breath, it was replaced by another and then by another. As she was used as some sort of sex toy, Olivia continued to sob weakly and her senses slowly shut down. This was like one of the nightmares that so often woke her from fitful sleep. Only, this was no nightmare.

When Olivia finally felt hands unlocking her collar from the wall, she was too weak to even respond, too tired to put up a fight. She was limp in their hands as they hauled her back to her prison. They tore the hood from her head and ripped the painful gag from her mouth. She worked her jaw gingerly and slowly regained feeling as they threw her to the concrete floor.

She lolled in a heap as a bent knee appeared in her field of vision. "You were a very good girl tonight and good girls get rewards," he drawled and Olivia felt the familiar unwanted prick in her arm. Laughing, he stood as the drugs seemed to burn her from the inside out. "I'll be back to start your training tomorrow, cunt. Sleep well."

Groaning feebly, Olivia curled more tightly though each movement made her aching limbs cry out in pain. They had removed the gag but the chains contorting her body remained. She could hardly feel her hands or even the familiar shooting pains from her ruined feet. Instead, it was if her entire body had been transformed into a being of agony and, exhausted, she let her eyes roll back as the drugs and nightmares took hold. Before she was completely gone, she dimly took in the forms of the young women she had seen earlier in the day. She whimpered softly, hoping that one of them would come to help her but they simply stared with wide eyes and made no move towards her. Whimpering again, Olivia let her cheek rest against the blessedly cool cement and let her mind fall away from reality.


	5. Chapter 5

Desperate thirst was the first sensation to greet Olivia when she awoke from her dreaming, semi-consciousness. As she tried to swallow, she felt as if water was only a remembered pleasure from the past. The simple movement sent ripples of anguish through her aching joints and she forced herself to lie still. Her head pounded from the drugs and exhaustion and, when she opened her eyes, the room spun sickeningly. She squeezed them closed and resigned herself to wait for whatever fresh torment she would endure today.

Too soon, heavy footfalls thudded in the hall, muffled by the thick walls of her prison. At the rattle of the doorknob, Olivia registered the soft scuffling and whimpers as the other women crowded to cower as far away from the door as possible. A loud laugh rang painfully in the tiny room.

"That's what I like to see! These bitches know their place," he crowed as he seized Olivia by her short hair and began to drag her down the hall. "Soon you'll learn to behave as well, cunt."

As he spoke, Olivia fought him, reeling from the pain in her scalp and still unwilling to submit soullessly to his designs just yet. She was dragged into a new room, a tiny windowless cell containing only a strange and horrific looking contraption bolted to the cement floor. Grunting, he seized Olivia by the collar and by the iron loop about her waist and tossed her atop the contraption. Once his hands were free, he reached for her face in order to, she presumed, force the clearly visible phallus into her mouth.

Snarling feebly, she shied away from his grasp and spit as best she could directly into his face. He paused for a moment to wipe the spittle from his face as she glared at him from her knees. Calmly, he buried his hammy fist in her hair and drew his hand back, delivering a vicious slap across her cheek.

Olivia gasped at the blow. It felt as if she had been hit by a hammer, her abused face still screamingly sore from her previous agony. He yanked her head as far back as he could, causing her wide collar to dig painfully into the raw skin of her shoulders, and leaned to look directly into her defiant eyes. "Bitch, you can try that all you want, but it won't change your situation. There's a much easier way to do this, but it is your choice."

Maintaining his steely grip on her collar, he shoved her down until he could lock the sides of her iron collar to a u-shaped fixture on one end of the device. Though she struggled to tug her body free, the locks held and she was soon panting as sweat beaded on her forehead. He next grabbed her painfully contorted knees and pulled them back until all of her weight rested on her collar and her bent knees. The rattling of more chains and the resulting tension in her body let Olivia know that she was securely bound in place and she closed her eyes in shame.

Her moment of reflection, however, was short lived as his fingers soon dug into her jaw, forcing her mouth open, and he shoved an enormous phallus between her teeth. It stretched her jaw wide and brushed against the back of her throat as she took a breath. Feeling her stomach roll nauseatingly, Olivia fought to keep her composure. If she were to vomit, she was sure that they would leave her here to suffocate. And, though a part of her wished for death, she refused to die in such a humiliating way. So she struggled to breathe through her nose and calm her stomach.

Thick fingers brushed her damp hair away from her face. "This is your first lesson," her torturer rumbled. "Though you did alright last night, some of our customers complained that they felt teeth. This device will teach you to keep your teeth far away from a man's dick. Every time your teeth touch the dick in your mouth, you'll regret it. And you had better learn. If you don't, I'm afraid that we'll just have to pull those pretty white teeth out. Also, some of my men have been very curious about you, so you may get a visitor or two. I expect you to treat them nicely, cunt." With a last caress of her exposed ass, he left the tiny room, slamming the door behind him.

Olivia shook with exhaustion and the shame overwhelming her. The pain in her knees was unbearable and, if she shifted to relieve the pressure, she choked against the iron of her collar. Just as she was trying to ease the pain in her legs, her teeth accidentally grazed the phallus. Instantly, her entire body went rigid, straining and convulsing against the chains that were too tightly wound around her limbs. Unable to control her movements, her teeth again touched the phallus and again electricity ripped through her body, screaming across her nerves and making the edges of her vision blur and blacken. Finally, Olivia regained some semblance of control over her body and froze in place, her teeth as far away from the torture device as possible, struggling to draw breath as it continually pressed against the back of her throat.

Olivia's entire body trembled violently with exhaustion as she strained to stretch her jaw ever wider and keep her teeth from earning her yet another shock. She could no longer count the number of times the electricity had convulsed her body or even guess at the number of hours she had spent chained to this sickening torture device. Unable to focus on anything other than simply avoiding another shock, Olivia pushed such questions from her mind and even failed to register the quiet creak of the opening door.

Dimly, she did register the sound of heavy footfalls entering her tiny hellhole. As she craned to glimpse at this new presence, however, her concentration faltered and her teeth touched the phallus. Over her own choked wails of agony, she faintly heard the man's raucous laughter, his merriment as spasms took hold of her muscles and her eyes watered in pain. Once she had recovered, rough hands ran over her torturously arched back and wandered to bump over the raised brand on her stomach.

He was silent except for the rasp of his tongue over his lips and his gradually quickening breaths. Olivia's eyes widened despite her exhaustion as she understood exactly why he had come. The rattle of his zipper made her heart jump and she moaned pleadingly around her gag, earning herself only a threatening chuckle and another shock.

Even before she had regained control, his fingers were on her, shoving relentlessly inside of her and pumping in and out. A few seconds of this and his fingers were replaced by a rapidly hardening penis at the entrance to her vagina. As he thrust inside of her, Olivia's groan cracked and piteous sobs began to wrack her body in earnest. She fought to keep her teeth from the phallus as he thrust in and out, rocking her body with the force of his movements. Despite her best efforts, she shuddered as more electricity coursed through her body and large hands crept to take hold of her mutilated breasts as convenient handholds.

Finally, her rapist thrust deeply and tightened his grip rigidly on her breasts as he climaxed. She remained frozen in place, praying that he would leave quickly and stretching her aching jaw. He withdrew with a satisfied chuckle and slapped her ass almost playfully. Olivia breathed in a raspy sigh of feeble relief as he swung the door open. However, her heart seemed to freeze in her chest as she heard his words.

"Hey guys, sorry to keep you all waiting, but she's quite a ride. Have fun with her!"

Olivia lolled weakly on the cold floor, letting waves of amphetamines and exhaustion carry her from light to darkness and back. Though she had no strength left, her body was in constant, uncoordinated motion as her muscles twitched and spasmed uncontrollably, an aftereffect of the electrical torture she had endured. She was conscious of little but the horrible colors swirling in her mind and the seemingly endless pain blanketing her body. Sometimes, the coolness of water wet her swollen tongue but she was unsure if it was real or another hallucination. She was touched, but, her senses drawn inward, could not identify a face or a voice. Instead, she simply let herself drift freely, afloat in her own nightmares.


	6. Chapter 6

Elliot unsuccessfully stifled a wide yawn as he shoved his way through the doors to the SVU squad room. Dickie had decided to play with his father's alarm clock and, as a result, Elliot had overslept. He hoped that Olivia had brought coffee. He was not prepared to face the week without a hearty dose of caffeine.

He was disappointed, however, when he was greeted by only his partner's neatly empty desk. As he sat with exaggerated sighs, Captain Cragen looked up from where he was bent over Fin's desk.

"Elliot," he barked. "Where's your partner? You two are catching today and I need you to go over Bellevue to interview a vic."

Elliot nodded and grabbed his phone, dialing Olivia's number. A whisper of concern flitted through his thoughts. In their years of partnership, Elliot could count on a single hand the number of times he had beat Olivia into the office. As her phone continued to ring, Elliot frowned. She never left her phone out of reach. Hell, she was so dedicated to her job that he had known her to answer the phone while using the restroom. Finally, the call went to voicemail and Elliot left her a short message, asking her to call as soon as she could.

His anxiety gradually building, Elliot dialed her apartment's landline and rapped his fingertips loudly against his desk as he impatiently waited for her to pick up. After many rings, this call was also answered by an answering machine and again he left her a message, his voice imbued with a subtle note of worry.

Tossing the phone back onto its cradle, Elliot stood and strode towards where Fin and Cragen were pouring over an open file and a stack of grainy photos.

"Captain," he blurted, already stuffing his arms back into his jacket. "Liv's not picking up. I'm going to her apartment to check on her. Fin and Munch can catch today; we'll make it up later this week." Before Cragen had a chance to respond, Elliot had turned on his heel to march towards the exit. Without even a glance over his shoulder, Elliot jingled the car keys in his pocket and ignored Cragen's voice calling insistently after him.

Elliot pounded on Olivia's door with his balled fist and called her name, paying no attention to the curious and irritated expressions peering from other doorways on the floor. Worry knotting in the bottom of his stomach, Elliot pounded harder until he was interrupted by an angry voice.

"What the hell? What's all this noise?" A stocky man in his forties stood at Elliot's shoulder, glaring up into the detective's face with a snarl. Elliot threw him a glance before whipping the badge from his belt and shoving it at the shorter man's face.

"NYPD," he grunted distractedly before brushing the man away. "Stand back, sir," he said. He took a deep breath. If Olivia was inside or simply running late, she would kill him for this. But, Elliot could not deny the unsettling sense that something had happened to his partner. With practiced movements, he used all of his strength to kick down the door and rushed through the open doorway, heedless of what he might find inside.

Elliot quickly scanned the entirety of Olivia's small, spartan apartment. Other than the chaotic mess he had created at the door, the space was neat and apparently undisturbed. No dishes lingered in the kitchen sink, no wrinkles marred the bed sheets, nothing indicated that Olivia had even set foot in her apartment over the weekend.

Gulping back the bile that had risen suddenly in his throat, Elliot snatched his cell phone from his pocket and called the squad room. He turned away from the small crowd that had gathered at the smashed door as he waited for an answer, growing more inwardly agitated with every passing ring. Finally, a voice lit up the line.

"Munch, Special Victims' Unit."

"John, it's Elliot. Tell Cragen that Liv's not here. It doesn't look like she's been here for a while."

Olivia had no conception of the passage of time as she lay bound in the prison she shared with the other captive women. As her body gradually stilled and recovered, she became aware of soft voices and gentle touches as the women tried to massage her agonized limbs and lifted her head to dribble water between her cracked lips. Their attentions slowly revived Olivia and soon she was able to learn their names.

While their captors left them alone, the women did what they could to comfort each other, sharing their meager food and water amongst themselves and with Olivia. These brief respites were frequently interrupted by the leering grins and cruelty of the men who came to drag one or more of the terrified women away. At each rattle of the locked door, Katya and the others crowded into the far corner of the room, leaving Olivia slumped in her iron bonds.

Despite her humiliating and agonizing position, Olivia continued to glare and snarl at her torturers as best she could, refusing to cower and grovel like a slave. Her efforts, however, were rewarded with chuckles and occasional booted kicks. Once, one of the men she recognized as having some authority knelt beside her and grinned down at her with horrible intent.

"My, my," he growled. "I see that you have still not learned your place." He paused to run filthy hands over her body, prodding and pulling at her abused and scarred flushed. "In that case, I think it is time to resume your duties and training."

With the chain lead bolted to her collar, he dragged her from the room and down the dark hall. He flung her through a doorway and then, meaty fists wrapped around the iron binding her waist, hauled her up to kneel on a table. Maintaining his grip on her leash, he stood before her and leered down at her.

"Your master wants to use you tonight for another of his … gatherings. So, you're going to learn to serve him in a new way." As he spoke, he chained her collar to a pulley bolted to the ceiling and yanked until Olivia was forced to balance on her cruelly bent knees or strangle.

Once she gained her precarious balance, her abuser ran his hands over her body once again, pausing to grip her mutilated breasts and run his nails over the puckered scars where her nipples had been. Though her body was exhausted, Olivia strained to move away from the disgusting sensation. As she hissed and growled, the man dug his nails deeply into the flesh of her breasts and sneered.

He released her with a shove that forced the brunette to struggle to regain her balance. While she fought for her breath, her captor returned with an enormous metal gag and a handful of gauze. He wrapped his hand under her jaw and squeezed to force her to remain still. With his free hand, he shoved wads of gauze into her mouth, packing the cloth tightly against the back of her throat and continuing until she choked. Satisfied, he locked the iron gag into her mouth, ensuring that she could neither spit the gag out nor make a sound.

Olivia continued to fight against her bonds and away from her captor's hands. As the gag seemed to suck the remaining moisture from her already parched throat and mouth, Olivia worked uselessly to expel the disgusting gag. Distracted, she started in surprise and disgust when she felt her torturer's soft penis thrust into her bound and swollen hands.

With a hand bunched in her short hair, he tugged her back so that he could snarl in her ear. "Make me cum, bitch. And if I feel nails, you'll regret it."

Releasing her, he began to move, grinding his penis in her numb, feeble grip. Swallowing the wave of nausea gripping her stomach, Olivia closed her eyes in shame and fractionally tightened her grip. She tried to force her mind away from this place, away from the humiliation of being used in this way. To her abuser, she was little more than an object available for his sexual satisfaction. She was no longer a proud and hardworking woman, a fierce detective or a gentle lover.

As he hardened in her grasp, anger began to rise in her, gradually pushing the shame and humiliation aside. She would not submit without a fight, she refused to give up before she had seen him and all of the others put away. Grinding her teeth against her gag, she steeled her resolve. She knew that her actions would be followed by more abuse. She knew that she should give her captors what they demanded. Too many times she had counseled and reassured victims, telling them that the most important thing was their survival. However, she was not some victim, she wanted to be stronger. Taking a steadying breath, she dug her nails deeply into the stiffening flesh in her grip.

A howl split the air in the tiny room. Her abuser reeled back, his howl cut short as he rasped for breath between clenched teeth. The noise brought others running, the stomping of their heavy boots thundering in the hall outside. Men entered the tiny room, some pausing to see to their injured colleague.

Upon their arrival, he recovered himself and straightened, tucking his sore penis away. Olivia remained bound and silent, frozen in her resistance. Her snarling captor appeared in her vision, face reddened with fury and pain. He backhanded her across her cheek and ground his teeth while she wheezed and gasped. Balling his hand in her hair, he jerked her forward until their faces were only inches apart.

"I warned you, bitch. Now you'll pay for that." He shoved her away and turned to his companions. "Remove her nails. I don't care what else happens. Just make sure she's ready for the boss." He stormed from the tiny room and slammed the door behind him with a deafening sound.

With terrifying quickness, Olivia was slammed forward onto the table, a nauseating sound and pain radiating from her nose as it was smashed. Her collar was chained tightly down, crushing her cheek against the cold metal and trapping her knees under her in a position of supplication. Her eyes rolled and she choked against her gag.

One of her hands was seized in a strong grip and, as flashes of what was about to occur flew through her mind, Olivia struggled wildly but to no avail. Metal brushed her finger tip and clamped over the end of her broken fingernail. She screamed and struggled in anticipation, though her efforts were curbed by her cruel restraints and raucous peals of cruel laughter deafened her in the tiny cell.

Her muffled screams quickly turned to nearly silent moans and whimpers of pain as her fingernails were ripped from her hands with agonizing deliberateness. Olivia strained to yank her hand free, to gain a moment's respite from her torture but her struggles were futile. Instead, as one was finally released and the other firmly grasped, her spinning mind registered the disgustingly familiar sensation of hands running over her exposed genitals. Soon she felt the warmth of a rapidly hardening penis probing along the cleft of her buttocks.

Though she reeled at the threat of yet another violation, Olivia lacked the energy to fight against the intrusion. As the first nail of her right hand was yanked away, her rapist shoved into her anus with a long and unyielding thrust. Olivia wailed in agony, her jaw clamping shut on the wad of gauze choking her. He began thrusting deeply into her as another and then another nail was torn from her hand. Her whimpers were punctuated by screams with each thrust and each yank of the bloody pliers. Finally, her hands were released and, with a brutal jut of her rapist's hips, Olivia was granted release from her torture.

Olivia let the blackness hover at the edges of her vision and prayed for complete darkness though she knew the potent drugs pricking at her mind wouldn't allow her relief. She allowed her head to loll against the biting edge of her iron posture collar and tears wet the black bandages wrapped like a hood over her eyes, nose and mouth.

Weakly, she squirmed to ease the pain of her position. Blind and bound, her captors had forced an enormous steel post into her abused anus and had left her to hang there, the weight of her entire body forcing the post deeper into her. Even the tiniest movements failed to provide any relief and instead simply changed the nature of her agony.

Numbly, she registered the grotesque invasion of yet another soft penis thrust into her aching, swollen hands. Shame reddened her cheeks behind her hood as she closed her fingers feebly around the gradually hardening organ. They had taken so much from her already that she felt unable to refuse them another tiny piece of her soul. After all, they owned her body. Why should her soul be any different?


	7. Chapter 7

Elliot took a confirming glance at the scribbled address and shoved the scrap of paper into his pocket. This was the place, Sam's on 8th Avenue, where Olivia had stopped for a drink the night she disappeared. Yanking the door open with more vigor than necessary, Elliot tried to calm his rising hopes. Already, it seemed as if he had crossed too many leads from his list to ever find his partner.

With purpose in his gait, Elliot strode to the bar and pulled his badge and a photo of Olivia from his pocket. "I'm Detective Stabler, with the Manhattan Special Victims' Unit. I need to know who was working on a Friday night, two weeks ago."

To his relief, the bartender turned to fetch her manager without any further inquiry or resistance. The manager emerged from behind the bar and, with a second flash of Elliot's badge, ushered the detective into his cramped office. Elliot perched on an available folding chair and offered the round, balding man Olivia's photograph.

"Do you recognize this woman?" he asked.

"Of course," the manager replied, leaning back in his chair. "That's Olivia, she comes in here pretty regular. Why you askin'?"

"Sir," Elliot began before he was cut off by a wave of the manager's hand.

"Call me Chris."

"Alright, Chris. She's been missing for two weeks and I believe she was here the night she disappeared. I'd like to know who was working on Friday October 14th."

Elliot was gratified when the manager dug into a drawer in his desk and withdrew a thick binder marked "schedule" in black marker. Sliding reading glasses onto his nose, Chris flipped through the pages until pausing and running his finger over the printed text.

"Aha," he said as he slid a notepad and pencil across the desk. He squinted as he scribbled before finally tearing the sheet free and holding it out towards Elliot. "Here you go, a couple of bartenders and the busboy. Call 'em up and if they give you any shit, tell 'em to talk to me."

Elliot nodded his gratitude and pocketed the folded paper. He stood to leave but paused when he felt a touch on his sleeve.

"Find her, detective. She's one of my regulars and she always makes me laugh."

Again, Elliot nodded, his hopes beginning to bubble, and let himself out of the office. With a wave at the bartender, he left the dark bar and burst into the bright autumn sunlight. Shoving the key into the cruiser's door, he thought a quick prayer. Please let someone have seen her.

Elliot sank exhaustedly into his desk chair in the squad room. He buried his face in his hands to avoid the sight of Olivia's empty seat as well as the concerned stares of his colleagues. He hardly had the energy to keep his cheek from resting on his forearm and letting his eyes close. He certainly did not have the heart to break the bad news to his friends. Her friends. He simply hoped that they would read the news in his slumped posture.

After contacting each of the employees on the list provided by Sam's manager, he still had nothing. Each of the bartenders remembered Olivia on that Friday night, recalled that she had seemed depressed, exhausted. However, none remembered her speaking to anyone or leaving. They could hardly even give him descriptions of other patrons. It had been a busy night. And so, after two weeks of exhaustive searching, Elliot had come up with nothing. It was as if his partner had simply vanished.

In the darkness, Olivia prayed for death. Her life was pain; it was all she could remember. Pain in her limbs, her heart, her most sensitive and private places. She tried to picture the comforting faces of her friends, her family. She strained to paint Alex's smile in her mind, but it had been too long. All she could imagine were images of blonde hair splayed on the concrete, blood and sirens, and Alex's unshed tears as she was ushered into a black SUV.

Olivia prayed for her own tears to come and grant her some small release, but it seemed that they had taken this from her too. She had already sobbed herself dry and now she only mewled pathetically into the silencing gag. So she slumped, still and silent, in her concrete prison and let her mind go blank. It was a skill she had learned quickly as she distanced herself from the torture and humiliation that would otherwise overwhelm her. She was nothing, a mockery of the woman she had once been, a toy soldier.

The footsteps and gruff voices came for her once again. They contorted her body, violated her with objects or flesh, tortured her for their own pleasure and she hardly cared. It was as if they were mutilating a mannequin as she watched from a distance, her vision obscured by mist. She couldn't feel sympathy for an inanimate object. They didn't have feelings, after all.


	8. Chapter 8

Elliot rubbed his palms across his chest, drying the nervous sweat chilling his hands. His years in the Marines and on the force had trained his body to remain calm through the most harrowing situations. He could run down suspects, cradle sobbing children and carefully document evidence from gruesome scenes without even a flutter in his chest. But his palms always felt clammy; their perspiration was the only outward sign of his nerves.

Tonight was a big night. Cragen had handed him the thick file after his final lead on Olivia's disappearance had dried up. The FBI had been investigating Rominov's trafficking women and drugs for months and they were ready to bust what they believed to be his safe house. It was heavily guarded by his mercenaries, according to an informant, and so the feds were enlisting the support of NYPD officers from all five boroughs. And, since the house would almost certainly be a prison for abused women and girls, detectives from special victims' units across New York were to accompany the officers in the first wave. They would be needed to calm the panicked captives and escort them to safety.

Elliot sighed and dropped the file back onto his untidy desk. He stood and slung his jacket over his shoulders before stealing a lingering glance at the small photo of Olivia stuck in the corner of a framed photo of his family. As he clipped his badge to the chain around his neck, Elliot sighed heavily. He was losing hope of ever seeing his smiling partner again. With a great effort, he turned away and beckoned to Fin. It would be a long night and they couldn't be late.

Elliot tugged at the confining straps of his bullet-proof jacket one final time before stilling his hands on the butt of his pistol. He glanced quickly at Fin, tensely braced beside him, and then returned his attention to the operation just beginning before them. The detectives were to wait until the first round of SWAT cleared the first floor before leading the second wave of support.

For a split-second, the silence was almost deafening as black-clothed, armored men swarmed stealthily around the perimeter of the house and positioned themselves at every possible entrance. Then chaos exploded as doors were kicked in and windows smashed. Elliot and Fin readied themselves for the short sprint as gunfire flashed and threw brief, eerie shadows. Suddenly, the house was dark and loud with the authoritative cries of New York's finest men and women.

The call for the second wave of officers sounded in a short lull in the noise coming from the house. Elliot and Fin took off, keeping time with the other officers and detectives at their sides, and plunging through a doorway, hands on their weapons.

Through the unsteadily lit chaos, Elliot searched for victims and found only burly men swearing as they were pinned down by the police. A shout of "Over here!" caught his attention and he whirled to answer. A helmeted officer stood at the entrance to a stairway leading down into the basement and he waved frantically to Elliot and Fin, beckoning them to follow.

Elliot led the small team of detectives, barreling down the rickety stairs and into a dank basement. But, when he caught sight of what lay in store, he stopped short, his knees almost too weak to support his body. He saw the face he had prayed so long to see. It was Olivia.

Olivia knew today would be different when her captors scrubbed at her scabbed and filthy face with a sopping rag. Usually, they simply hid her face behind tape or bandages; a face, after all, was a luxury not afforded to mere objects. They scrubbed until her wounds bled and then cursed the blood wetting her skin. They rubbed relentlessly until it seemed they would scrape off her very skin and Olivia moaned feebly in their grasp.

Finally, her torturers ceased their cruel efforts and dropped her to kneel curled on the floor. With a twist of a key at the back of her neck, the hated metal gag fell from her mouth. The gauze soon followed, yanked from behind her teeth, and Olivia worked her aching jaw reflexively. A sneering face appeared in her vision and she dimly returned his stare.

"The Boss is coming to visit you to check on your training. I recommend you behave. For your own sake," he snarled. Straightening, he straightened and stomped up the stairs, leaving Olivia to wait.

Rominov's fingers tightened in Olivia's hair as he pounded himself into her slack mouth. He jarred her abused body with each thrust and, as she choked, Olivia faintly wished for an end. As he neared his climax, Rominov's thrusts became more erratic. Suddenly, his fist slipped from her hair as he shoved himself deep into her throat and her head slammed into the concrete wall. Dazed, Olivia tried to crumple to the floor and, to her dim sorrow, her teeth grazed the Russian's swollen flesh.

He growled and yanked away from her, letting her body slide down the wall to curl on the floor. "Bitch," he hissed. "I thought you had been properly trained." He tucked his rapidly failing erection back into his pants and neatly buckled his leather belt. Taking a deep breath, he continued to speak. "No matter. This is easily taken care of." He took a few steps toward the stairs and bellowed for his henchmen to join him in the basement.

The sound of booted feet rushing down the creaking steps was deafening, but Olivia hardly stirred. Disregarding the impending torture, she was simply relieved to lie still, even for a moment. She let her eyes flutter shut in a semblance of peace.

Too soon, familiar, brutal hands were once again grabbing her, this time folding over her teeth and forcing her jaw wide. Too tired and in too much pain, Olivia struggled feebly to draw breath but remained almost limp. To fight would only gain her extra punishment as reward; instead she would concede defeat once again.

The sensation of metal grinding against her molars made her haul her leaden eyelids back open. Her tired gaze met Rominov's cruelly amused blue eyes just before his grin widened and Olivia's jaw exploded in agony. She heard the clatter of her tooth on the cement floor over her cracked wail as the pliers ground against another tooth. Hoping for blackness, Olivia let her eyes roll far back as a second molar was torn from her mouth. Stars burst in her vision as unbelievable pain radiated from her jaw to her numb fingertips, still tightly bound behind her back.

Rominov grasped a third tooth and yanked again. But, as the roots came free of his captive's gums and she trembled under his grip, he let the pliers clatter to the floor. Shouting and gunfire, muffled only slightly by the floor in between, erupted above them. Rominov jumped to his feet and sprinted towards the stairs, his employees hot on his heels, leaving Olivia forgotten and bleeding. Through a wavering fog of throbbing pain, she listened to the chaos thundering in the old house but, to her, it meant nothing more than a temporary respite from her torture. She shut her eyes and let her cheek loll in the pool of blood seeping from between her lips.

Leaving the huddled group of rescued women in the attentive care of Fin and the other New York SVU detectives, Elliot threw himself into his cruiser. The paramedics had already whisked Olivia away in a flurry of IV bags and cotton blankets. Elliot was determined to be at her side as soon as she was out of surgery. He had been searching for too long not to hold her hand when she woke up. He slammed the car into gear and pealed away from the flashing lights and ordered chaos of the scene of the bust.


	9. Chapter 9

Elliot strode furiously through the whooshing electric doors of Mercy General's emergency room. As he stalked towards the nurses' desk, a familiar voice called out his name. Elliot whirled to lay eyes on Captain Cragen who stood among a group of his colleagues.

Munch had folded his long frame into a chair and sat with his head in his hands. Casey perched anxiously next to him, her eyes dry but red-rimmed. Even Liz Donnelly was there, stiffly shifting from foot to foot, a cup of forgotten coffee clutched in her fist. Elliot joined his worried friends, his steps jerky and a desperate question written across his face.

"Is she…?"

"Elliot, calm down," Cragen commanded quietly. He placed a steady hand on his fiery detective's elbow. "She's still in surgery. The doctors will come and talk to us soon. I made sure of that." Cragen's voice trailed into silence as Elliot pulled away and began to pace the short length of the crowded waiting room. He clenched his fists again and again at his sides as he walked. The waiting was almost too much for him to bear; he had already waited for so long. It was only the love and respect he held for his beloved partner that checked his raging emotions. For Olivia, he would force himself to wait.

Elliot stalked impatiently behind his captain as a nurse let the two men through the nearly silent halls of the ICU. Minutes before, a cold doctor had emerged to greet the anxious crowd and explain Olivia's condition. She was stabilized for now, though the doctor worried that the abuse she had suffered would prove to be simply too much to survive. As he spoke, Elliot could clearly read the questions struggling behind the tightly wound façade of the doctor's training.

Ignoring the man's curiosity, Elliot stepped forward. Voice deep and almost plaintive, he asked to see Olivia with uncharacteristic gentleness. Cragen stepped forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with the burly detective and Casey stared with pleading eyes. Under their concerned gazes, the doctor reluctantly complied with Elliot's request. He beckoned for a nurse to escort them. "One visitor at a time," he warned. "And only for a few minutes. She's sleeping and she needs her rest."

The nurse paused outside a partially opened door. Elliot craned his neck and caught a glimpse of a dimly lit room and the foot of a neatly made hospital bed. He took a step forward but the nurse moved to stop him. "Don't disturb her," she murmured. "I'll be back in a few minutes." She turned on her heel and walked briskly away, leaving them in the hall.

Elliot paused, letting his blue eyes cross from face to face. Casey and Liz nodded silently and Cragen again touched Elliot's arm. "Go ahead, Elliot. We'll wait here." With a pale smile, Elliot turned and pushed the door carefully open.

The detective's expression melted into sorrow as he took in the still form of his partner. Olivia's face was peacefully slack and her bandaged arms lay gently at her sides. Elliot moved to sit at her side, careful to make no noise. Impulsively, he stretched out his hand to take hers but stopped in mid-air, his fingers hovering over hers. The image of her broken, mangled body at the foot of the stairs sprang to his mind. He remembered the blood pooling on the concrete, the unforgiving iron contorting her naked form, and he couldn't bring himself to touch her. Causing her further pain, even inadvertently, squeezed his heart in a vice grip and he let his hand drop back to his lap.

Maintaining shaky control over his flood of emotions, Elliot leaned to murmur into her ear. "Liv, we got the bastard. You've got to hang on, you've …" Elliot paused as his voice cracked. He took a deep breath. "Just … sleep well, Liv," he choked out before standing and dashing a tear from his eye. With a long look at his friend, Elliot forced himself to leave her side. Cragen, Casey and Liz all deserved their chances to see her.

As Elliot emerged, he schooled his expression into one of calm. His colleagues looked at him expectantly before he nodded. "Captain," he murmured, his voice faltering. Cragen returned his silent nod before brushing by the seemingly stoic detective to pay his brief visit to the injured woman.

Elliot leaned against the hall's sterile wall and spread his hand over his eyes. He could hardly stand the sight of his friend abused and lying alone in a hospital room. Olivia was larger than life, proud and tough, but, wrapped in bandages and blankets, she seemed so fragile. He took a trembling breath.

Cragen emerged with soft steps and beckoned for Casey to take his place. As the redhead tentatively entered the dark room, Cragen joined Elliot and Liz. They stood silently for a moment before Elliot cleared his throat quietly. He lowered his hand from his eyes and turned to face his captain.

"Captain," he began softly and paused uncertainly. "I … we need to find Alex."

Cragen started and frowned, opening his mouth to voice a shocked question but he stopped short when Elliot raised his hand.

"We couldn't tell you, Captain, but Velez didn't kill Alex. She's in witness protection. I don't know where the feds stashed her, but we need to find her and bring her here." Elliot snapped his mouth shut but his burning gaze bore into his tired captain.

Cragen took a few steadying breaths as he processed the information before turning to Liz. She stood, eyes wide in shock, staring at the tall detective. "Liz," Cragen began but she cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"Stabler, are you sure?" she asked, her characteristic directness returning in a flood.

Elliot nodded soberly.

"Alright," she said shortly. "I'll find her."

At that moment, Casey emerged from Olivia's room, dabbing at her eyes with a wadded tissue. She paused as she took in her three tense colleagues. "What's…" she began. Liz took hold of the redhead's arm in a firm grip and pulled her down the hall as Elliot and Cragen trailed behind.

"We'll tell you in the car, Casey. Let's go."

Elliot raised his hand and knocked loudly on the blue wooden door. Over the light wind, he sensed rather than heard a rustling within the house and, out of the corner of his eye, noticed the quick flick of the sky-blue curtains. He stood rigidly, Dean Porter a step behind him, as the locks were turned and the door finally swung open.

Alex was as pale and slender as he remembered her though her blonde hair seemed longer, hanging down her back in a loose braid. Her eyes were wide with nervous anticipation as she gazed at the two sober men standing hunched on her doorstep. Starting back to attention, Alex stepped back and waved for Elliot and Porter to enter.

The two men sat gingerly on the sofa in Alex's neat living room while the blonde perched anxiously on the corner of a nearby armchair. Elliot glanced quickly around the small house. It was tastefully decorated but coldly tidy, a house but not a home. It bore no resemblance to the apartment she had shared with Olivia. Elliot had spent many warm evenings in that apartment, laughing and clinking longnecks with his two friends. There was none of that warmth here.

Finally, the uncomfortable sensation of Alex's blue eyes upon him jerked Elliot from his thoughts. He met her gaze and sighed. "Alex, we're here to take you back to New York."

Alex started and leaned toward the detective, a frown creasing her expression. "Did you catch Velez?" she asked seriously.

"No, Alex, it's not that. It's … it's Olivia. Alex, she was attacked." Elliot's usually steady voice trembled as he spoke, his heart breaking. He remembered too clearly the pain Olivia had suffered when Alex was taken away. He could hardly bear to be the one to tell Alex that now it was Olivia who might be taken away. But it was a task he refused to delegate to any one else.

Once again, Elliot raised his gaze to meet Alex's. If it was possible, her face was paler, even ashen, as she stared at the detective. "Elliot," she croaked, her voice breaking as she fought worried tears.

"She needs you, Alex. She might … she might not make it," he said, trailing into a whisper as he spoke the unthinkable. Alex gasped sharply, her fingers digging violently into the arm of her chair. They remained frozen for a long moment as Elliot and Dean waited for Alex to process the information that had just been thrust into her lap.

Suddenly, Alex leapt to her feet, her ice blue eyes flashing. With an uncharacteristic franticness, the normally composed woman rushed from the living room into what Elliot presumed was her bedroom. She reappeared moments later, clutching a small leather bag and stuffing her arms into her coat. Whipping around to face the still seated men, she spoke in the level, commanding tone Elliot remembered so vividly. "Take me to her."


	10. Chapter 10

Alex strode down the sterile hallway of Mercy General's ICU, moving as fast as she could without attracting undue attention. She stopped short as she reached Olivia's room and she paused for a moment, hand on the door, to steady herself. The little she had coaxed out of Elliot on their trip had painted a grim picture. She breathed deeply, readying herself for the first glimpse of her love in years. She only wished it didn't have to happen this way.

Rallying her courage, Alex pushed the door slowly open and tentatively stepped into the dim room. The curtains were pulled closed over the window and the sunlight shining through the cloth cast a golden light over the small room. Olivia lay still on the narrow hospital bed and Alex's stoic façade melted at the sight. Dropping her bag onto an empty chair, her legs carried her numbly towards the prone woman and she sank weakly onto a stool by the head of the bed.

Though obviously sleeping, Olivia frowned uncomfortably and her jaw moved jerkily, as if she were speaking in a nightmare. Beads of feverish sweat plastered her short hair to her forehead and her fingers twitched nervously. Alex looked up and down Olivia's body, reaching her hand out uncertainly, unsure of how to comfort her old love.

A light knock at the door startled Alex and she whipped her hand away, turning to face the door. A mature nurse stood silhouetted against the harsh lights in the hall. She walked briskly into the small room, smiling warmly at the seated and uncomfortable blonde. "Ms. Benson has so many visitors that I'm a little jealous," she laughed softly. "I'm Anita, one of the nurses on this floor. I usually see Mr. Stabler here about now."

Remembering her manners, Alex returned her smile, albeit a little palely. "I'm Alex. I'm, uh, I'm her girlfriend."

Anita nodded and reached to clasp Alex's tense shoulder. "Oh yes, Elliot told me you were on your way. You must have so many questions," Anita murmured as she proceeded to replace the IV bag dripping slowly into Olivia's arm.

"Anita," Alex began. "She looks like she's in pain. Is there anything you can do?"

"Well, Alex, she's suffering through withdrawal from methamphetamines. We've given her some drugs to help with the detox but, until the symptoms subside, there's little we can do other than keep her hydrated and as comfortable as possible. But I'm sure that you're presence will help to soothe her."

As Anita spoke, Alex turned her attention back to the suffering woman before her. Again, impulsively, she stretched her hand towards the brunette but paused uncertainly. From her position across the bed from the blonde, Anita's smile melted into an expression of compassion and she took Alex's hand in her own. Gently, she lowered it to rest on Olivia's forearm, above the bandages at her wrist and below the ugly bruising around her elbow.

Anita's expression relaxed as Alex leaned closer to Olivia and let her hand curl lightly around the brunette's forearm. "She can feel it and your touch won't hurt her. Here also," she said softly, reaching to take Alex's free hand. She placed Alex's palm on Olivia's stomach near her ribs and just above her hip. "There's no bruising here. Now, I'll leave you alone. I'll be back to check on Ms. Benson in a couple of hours. And, Alex, try talking to her. Sometimes she's lucid for a while. Maybe you'll get lucky." With a final supportive smile, Anita left to see to her other patients.

Alex watched her leave and turned back to Olivia with renewed strength and calm. She gently rubbed her thumbs across Olivia's uninjured flesh, taking comfort in her girlfriend's warmth. Olivia was alive and there was a chance she would come back. Alex leaned close to Olivia to whisper into the brunette's ear.

"Olivia, it's Alex. I'm here. I know it's been a long time, but I'm here now. Oh darling, I've missed you so much. All those nights in Wisconsin, it would snow and I thought of you. I couldn't really be Emily, Liv. I couldn't be without you. Please, Olivia, come back to me. You can beat this, I know you can." Alex fell silent as tears threatened to overwhelm her and she continued to caress the brunette's warm, trembling body.

Alex yawned widely but didn't remove her hand from Olivia's hip to stifle it. The hurried trip and hours of worry were beginning to take their toll and she felt exhausted. Anita had come and gone, lifting Alex's spirits with her soft tones and professional care. The blonde remained where she had first sat, praying silently for Olivia's suffering to recede and give her some peace. Alex still did not completely understand what had happened to her girlfriend but she could clearly see the bulk of casts protruding under the blankets and the swelling distorting Olivia's cheek.

Fighting a second yawn, Alex was gratified to see that the sweat dampening Olivia's forehead had dried and her trembling had calmed. "Oh Olivia, what did they do to you," Alex sighed.

As she spoke, Olivia moaned softly. Alex started at the sudden noise that seemed too loud and human amidst the whirs and beeps of the machines connected to the brunette. Alex gently firmed her touch and leaned close to her girlfriend. "Olivia," Alex breathed, hardly daring to hope.

Olivia moaned again and her eyelids fluttered. As Alex watched, her breath stilled in anticipation, Olivia slowly opened her eyes just wide enough for Alex to see her brown irises. Her gaze wandered for a moment before settling unfocusedly on Alex's face.

"Olivia," Alex repeated with greater feeling. "Darling, I'm here."

Olivia took a shuddering breath though her gaze never left Alex's. She frowned feebly. Weakly, she parted her cracked lips and wet them with her tongue. "A … Alex?" she whispered, her voice nearly inaudible.

"Yes, Liv. I'm here. Don't speak, darling, you need to rest. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise." Olivia's eyes fluttered shut as Alex spoke and her expression relaxed. Alex smiled a wan smile and let her fingertips lightly run over Olivia's body. She was here and she would never leave Olivia again.

Two days passed in similar fashion. Alex held her lover, whispering soothing words to her as she trembled and shivered and moaned. Sometimes, Olivia's eyes would open and Alex would start eagerly, leaning to smile encouragingly at her old love. But Olivia didn't respond, letting her eyes drift aimlessly across the room, unfocused, before falling closed once more.

Nurses came regularly to note down Olivia's vitals and replace her bandages. They were a comfort to Alex's strained nerves, especially Anita. With her warm voice and sedate calm, she helped to reassure the grieving blonde as she related Olivia's condition during each of her visits. Anita was an experienced ICU nurse and she had seen many men and women bent sadly over their loved ones. But Alex and Olivia were a unique case.

She had read the coldly clinical records of Olivia's torture and, when she changed the brunette's bandages and dabbed at her ashen skin with warm cleansing cloths, Anita saw the results. The inhuman anguish this woman must have suffered stunned her and the undisguised sorrow on Alex's face broke her heart. And each time she left them alone together, she whispered a short prayer on their behalf.

On the third morning since Alex had arrived, the blonde noticed with relief that some color had returned to Olivia's gray cheeks. Gently, Alex smoothed Olivia's dark hair back from her forehead, smiling at the coolness of her skin. Her touch soft and comforting, Alex continued to rest her palm on Olivia's hairline, brushing the pad of her thumb over the soft strands. Leaning close, Alex could make out subtle streaks of premature gray standing out and her heart stretched out to her love. "What did they do to you?" she murmured.

A soft rap on the door startled Alex and she turned to see a white-coated man standing in the door. He beckoned to Alex and, with a last caress to Olivia's forehead, she stood to follow him. He led her down the white hallway as he introduced himself. "I'm Dr. Carlton, Olivia's surgeon. You must be Ms. Cabot. Ms. Benson's emergency contact, Don Cragen, asked me to give you a more detailed explanation of her condition. Please," he said calmly, holding open a door leading into a small office.

Alex accepted his invitation and took a seat across from the large desk. Dr. Carlton sat down and pulled a file from his desk drawer, spreading it open on the desk.

"Ms. Cabot, please stop me if you are too uncomfortable. Ms. Benson is in very serious condition. Aside from the withdrawal, which you already know about, she has suffered some nerve damage resulting from long term binding of her arms and legs. We won't know exactly how severe the damage is until she has healed a little more and we can run some tests. Also, due to the restraints, she developed some serious friction wounds which became infected with staph. She's on heavy doses of antibiotics which we hope will knock the infection out."

He paused to glance up at the blonde who sat stiffly before him. Her face was pale but her expression was set, determined to hear him out. He let his gaze linger on her for a brief moment before bending back to the chart and continuing.

"Several bones in her feet are broken and associated with very large wounds which we will allow to heal before reassessing. She will very likely require orthopedic surgery before walking again." He paused as Alex gasped in pain and grief. He knew that Olivia had been a police officer before her abuse and understood how devastating such an injury could be. He gave her a moment to compose herself.

"I know that this is difficult, Ms. Cabot," he said gently. "But you need to be prepared. Ms. Benson is very sick and she'll need your support to recover, physically and emotionally. In addition to her other injuries, she suffered disfiguring injuries and burns to her breasts, stomach and genitals. We have a burn specialist monitoring her, but she will need plastic surgery to regain normal sexual function. But that is far in the future. When the time comes, I can recommend a few surgeons, some of the best in New York. With your support and surgery, Ms. Benson will be able to lead a normal life."

As he fell silent, Alex bent to rest her head in her hands, taking deep breaths to ward off the sobs fighting to be given voice. Finally, she straightened and looked Dr. Carlton in the eye. "Thank you, doctor," she murmured. "If you don't mind…"

"Yes, of course," he said hurriedly, standing to open the door for her. "If you have any questions, please ask for me and I'll come as soon as I can. And, Ms. Cabot, let me give you the card of one of our staff psychiatrists. She's very experienced in helping families and loved ones of ICU patients. Give her a call if you need to talk." He pressed a white card into Alex's hands as he spoke in reassuring tones. Alex nodded gratefully and turned to leave, her heart shaken but eager to return to her injured lover.

Alex turned to enter the now familiar hospital room but stopped short at the sight of a nurse bent over Olivia's bed. The nurse held a steaming cloth in her gloved hand and reached to lift Olivia's slack arm from the blankets. To Alex's rising hope and concern, Olivia's eyes fluttered open and flew to the woman standing over her. As the nurse's gloved fingers touched Olivia's skin, the brunette's face twisted in terror and she jerked away, a moaned refusal escaping from her cracked lips.

With soothing words, the nurse again reached for Olivia's hand. "It's alright, dearie, I just need to give you a bath."

Olivia struggled to escape, her expression frozen in a mask of fright and panic. She scrabbled at the mattress with her unbandaged fingers, leaving streaks of red on the starkly white linen, and she feebly fought to push herself back with her heels. Alex leapt forward towards the heart rending scene before her and laid a restraining hand on the nurse's arm. "Step back for a minute," she said, her voice low but with a note of command no one could refuse. The nurse complied and Alex moved slowly to sit on the edge of Olivia's bed.

"Liv," she murmured. "Liv, it's me, you're safe." At the sound of Alex's voice, Olivia stilled and opened her eyes though the tension did not leave her body. Her gaze settled on Alex's calm face and she stared at the blonde for a long moment as recognition relaxed the tight corners of her mouth.

"Alex," she whispered harshly. "I thought you were a dream." Her words were hardly audible but Alex heard and smiled sadly.

"No, darling, I'm here. Give me your hands, Liv." Slowly, Olivia obeyed, loosing her deathly grip on the thin mattress and allowing Alex to gently take her hands and lay them back on the blankets. Calmly, so as not to further startle the stricken brunette, Alex stood and wrapped her hand tenderly around the back of Olivia's ankle. Her touch met hard plastic and metal over gauze-wrapped skin and her gaze flickered down. During Olivia's struggle, the blanket had fallen away, revealing the stiff brace holding her foot in place. Alex could see blood beginning to ooze through the thick bandages but she ignored it, instead lifting gently and helping Olivia to slide her leg to lay flat against the bed. She repeated the process on Olivia's other leg before re-tucking the blankets around her calves.

Carefully, Alex took her place on the edge of the bed before turning to the quiet nurse and holding out her hand expectantly. The nurse initially refused, citing hospital policy, but soon melted under Alex's stern gaze and passed her the still warm cloth.

Her expression tender and her eyes never leaving Olivia's, Alex slowly lifted Olivia's hand in her own. Her heart seemed to crack open when Olivia flinched under her touch but she hid her sorrow and caressed Olivia's knuckles with her thumb. Gently, Alex touched the cloth to Olivia's forearm and wiped her skin clean, ignoring the brunette's trembling and occasional flinches. As she worked under the nurse's attentive supervision, Alex spoke in soothing tones, hoping to help her pained girlfriend to relax into the touch.

"Shhh," she cooed lovingly. "If I hurt you, just tell me and I'll stop at once. You know I'd never hurt you, darling. I love you and, though it's been a long time, I never stopped thinking of you. And I'll never make that mistake again; I won't leave you."

Alex perched anxiously on an uncomfortable chair in the hall just outside Olivia's hospital room. Arms wrapped about her waist, Alex hugged herself tightly and listened for any sound that would call her back. She had left at Olivia's pleading insistence, frightened by the hollowness of her girlfriend's dark eyes. But Alex was determined to remain close by; she meant to keep the promise she had made just moments before.

Olivia had allowed Alex to dab at her exposed skin with the cleansing cloth though she obviously struggled against her instinct to pull away. But when the blonde moved to reach under Olivia's gown, the brunette lost the fight. She jerked away from Alex's touch, batting her hand feebly away and clenching her teeth tightly together. "No," she ground out, her voice high and strained. "Don't. Please don't, please don't." Olivia's tone became more panicked as she spoke and her eyes flickered between Alex's face and a spot in the distance.

Alex sat frozen for a moment as she watched Olivia spiral away from her before jumping to back away. She took a few steps away from the bed, hands outstretched in a gesture of gentleness. "Liv, Liv, you're safe. I won't touch you. Olivia, look at me."

With growing concern, Alex watched the quickening rise and fall of Olivia's chest and the meager color drain from her strangely blank face. Olivia shook her head shakily from side to side and her fingers flexed convulsively around the corner of the blanket she clutched. Alex whirled to face the nurse who was already retreating from the room to fetch a doctor before turning back to Olivia.

Unable to do anything more to calm the frozen brunette, Alex continued to speak to her lover. But as Olivia continued to softly beg, Alex fought to keep her voice soothing as her heart rose to pound high in her chest. "Come on, Liv. It's Alex. Calm down, darling, you're safe." She continued to speak though her voice trembled with growing intensity until she was interrupted by the doctor brushing past her.

Hands grasped Alex's shoulders and turned her towards the door, the touch gentle but irresistible. Numbly, Alex complied with their direction and found herself outside the room, left suddenly alone. She sank gratefully into a nearby chair and clutched her arms desperately, seeking whatever comfort she could find.

Slowly, the sounds of Olivia's empty voice faded amidst the businesslike tones of the nurse and doctor. Alex hugged herself more tightly, fighting the urge to blame herself for what had happened. But the guilt crept through her rationalizations and seemed to press down on her heart. If only she had not moved to touch Olivia more intimately, if only she hadn't touched her at all, if only she hadn't come back. A tiny voice in her mind whispered that maybe Elliot shouldn't have come looking for her, that maybe Olivia would have been better off without her presence. For a moment, the pressure became too great and Alex folded down until her forehead nearly touched her knees. Tears stung her eyes and she squeezed them closed.

A tear splashed onto her knee and then a second and third. The wetness soaked through the cloth of Alex's slacks and, for a brief moment, it felt warm against her skin. Then it cooled and the changing sensation reminded Alex of where she sat and why she had come. She loved the woman lying in the sterile hospital room. She admired Olivia's strength, her passion and toughness. But she loved the woman. She had loved her through the turbulent times when Olivia came home drained and sporting a shiner from a particularly resilient suspect. She had loved her from her cold Wisconsin bedroom after they had been ripped apart. And she loved her now as she trembled, feeble and mutilated, in a hospital bed. Alex wouldn't give up on that feeling.

After hours that were only minutes, the doctor emerged from Olivia's room, stripping the gloves from his hands. Alex rose to meet him, quickly wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Ms. Cabot, Ms. Benson is still very traumatized and too weak to withstand such emotional outbursts. We've given her some Ativan, an anti-anxiety medication, to help her stay calm while we change her bandages. If she responds well to it, we'll keep administering it until she's a little stronger. You can go in and see her now. She'll be a little groggy and sleepy but it's for the best." Alex nodded and the doctor turned to leave.

Cautiously, Alex pushed the door open and entered the now silent room. Olivia lay quietly back against the pillows, her cheeks reddened from her exertion, and her eyes were closed. A nurse stood bent over Olivia's feet, her back to the door, and Alex softly cleared her throat to alert her. The nurse, a tall brunette named Sarah, met Alex's anxious gaze and beckoned for her to approach.

Alex joined Sarah at the foot of the bed though she kept her eyes carefully averted. "Hello, Ms. Cabot. I'm just changing the bandages here. Do you … I think you should see." Alex paled and braced herself on the edge of the bed, squeezing her eyes shut as she took a moment. Finally, she opened her eyes with a nod and let her gaze come to rest on Olivia's naked foot.

The wound was gruesome. Bright blood still oozed from the gaping hole through the arch. Worse, free of the brace, Olivia's foot was curled into an unnatural curve. The nurse ran an alcohol wipe over the bruised, discolored skin around the wound before picking up a tube of soothing, antibacterial ointment and dabbing it directly on to the scabbing wound. Under Alex's distraught gaze, Sarah deftly rewrapped Olivia's foot in thick, fresh gauze and eased it back into the orthopedic brace, coaxing it from its curved shape. She lifted the blanket and tucked it gently to cover Olivia's exposed toes before once more turning to Alex.

"Ms. Cabot, have a seat, you look a little pale. I didn't mean to upset you, but I think it will help if you see Ms. Benson's injuries for yourself. Not all at once, but a little at a time. Eventually, she'll be discharged and she's going to need help from someone she trusts."

Alex nodded silently as she collapsed onto her customary stool by Olivia's side. Though her stomach still clenched from the sight of her girlfriend's mutilated foot, she agreed wholeheartedly with the nurse's gentle statement. Reaching to rest her fingertips tenderly on the back of Olivia's hand, Alex swallowed her nausea and met Sarah's concerned gaze. "I agree. Just … just give me some time."

Sarah nodded and smiled serenely. "You'll be good for her, I can tell. Call me if you need anything." As the nurse quietly walked away, Alex turned her attention back to her sleeping lover. Olivia frowned and squirmed weakly in her sleep and shivered violently, goosebumps prickling her exposed skin. Alex leapt from her seat and pulled open the cabinet built into the opposite wall. Anita had showed it to her once when Alex had shivered and she had instructed the blonde to use any of the spare pillows and blankets it contained. Alex pulled two white cotton blankets from the shelf and, with a flick of her wrist, shook them out and laid them over Olivia's chilled body. Tenderly, she adjusted the hems so that Olivia was snugly covered, the edge of the blanket tucked under her chin.

Alex settled again onto her stool. She laid her bent arm on the edge of the mattress and rested her cheek on her elbow so that she could watch the long shadows Olivia's lashes cast on her cheeks and monitor the steady pulse beating in the hollow of her neck. Alex pushed the horrible image of Olivia's injured feet from her mind, choosing to focus instead on the life that still quickened in Olivia's body. She was alive and, alive, Alex could still love her.


	11. Chapter 11

Alex walked briskly and with sure purpose through the halls of Mercy General Hospital's ICU, aiming for her usual seat at the head of her girlfriend's narrow bed. With practiced movements, she pushed open the familiar white door and entered the dimly lit room. Her relaxed expression compressed into one of growing concern and alarm as she took in Olivia's curled form.

The brunette was tightly cramped on her side, her back towards the door. A soft moan pulsed under the beeps of the instruments and the quiet chaos from the hall, Olivia's voice high and wavering with her body's shaking. Alex rushed to step around the foot of the bed to approach her girlfriend. Olivia's eyelids were cracked open but Alex could only see white; her warm brown irises were hidden. Her body trembled violently, like one stricken by Parkinson's, and Alex reached to grasp Olivia's shoulder.

"Olivia, wake up, darling," Alex coaxed, hiding her worry behind her soothing tone. Olivia opened her eyes wider and she trained her foggy gaze on Alex's face though the tremors didn't cease. Though her hands spasmed uncontrollably, Olivia worked them free from their clasped position against her chest and dragged her arm across the sheets. Alex enveloped her girlfriend's shaking hand gently in both of her own and caressed Olivia's palm with her fingertips as the brunette let her eyes drift partially closed. Again she groaned high in her throat and the sound quivered pitifully.

Without releasing her comforting grasp on Olivia's hand, Alex moved to rest her hip on the edge of Olivia's bed. Wrapping one hand around Olivia's back, she ran her palm up and down her girlfriend's bony ribs and spine. Suddenly Olivia moved and, with her free hand, weakly twisted to rise up on her elbow. Eyes closed completely, she took a shaky breath and whispered, "Hold me."

Steadily, Alex hooked her arms gently under Olivia's arms and helped her sit up slightly. The blonde slipped behind her in order to lean her back against the wall, her legs hanging off the side of the bed, one foot still on the floor. Carefully, she helped Olivia move to rest against her before wrapping her arms around the brunette's violently trembling body. With her right hand, she cradled Olivia's cold, damp cheek and brushed her fingertips lightly against the short hair at her temple. With her other, she reached across Olivia's hips and held her hand. With the brunette wrapped securely in her embrace, her head pillowed just under the attorney's throat, Alex could feel Olivia's tremors with her whole body and her heart reached out to her lover. Olivia moaned softly and Alex murmured to comfort her. "Squeeze my hand when it gets bad, sweetie. I love you and I'm here for you."

Olivia tightened her grip and gasped before heaving herself painfully forward. Recognizing the meaning of Olivia's sudden actions, Alex leaned to snatch the small, plastic basin from the table beside the bed. She held it under Olivia's chin as the brunette began to retch and groan, straining to empty her already empty stomach. As Olivia struggled to vomit and her tremors increased in intensity, Alex supported her with an arm across the brunette's chest and shoulder and murmured soft reassurances. Finally, Olivia coughed feebly and leaned back into Alex's embrace, her face pale and tired. Alex slid the basin back onto the table and, still holding Olivia warmly, reached to press the button to call a nurse.

A long moment passed with Olivia trembling against Alex's body before Anita appeared in the room's entrance. "Ms. Cabot, Ms. Benson, is everything alright?"

"Anita," Alex said calmly. "She's vomiting and her tremors are getting worse." As Alex spoke, Anita's professional gaze analyzed the sight of her patient's shaking form and ashen face.

"Yes, we were hoping that the withdrawal symptoms wouldn't be so intense. It varies from patient to patient. I'll bring the doctor and ask him to give her something for the nausea. I'll be back in a minute." Alex nodded and Anita left, her gait serious and determined.

She returned quickly with a familiar woman whose name, Alex remembered, was Dr. Brown. The doctor quickly approached the two women and laid her hand on Olivia's sweaty forehead as she checked the monitors for Olivia's vital signs. "Alright, Ms. Benson, I'm going to have Anita give you an anti-nausea medication and a low dose of valium to help relax the tremors and let you sleep." Olivia merely groaned in response, still keeping her eyes closed, and Alex nodded shortly before returning her attention to her girlfriend. The doctor murmured her instructions to Anita before turning and leaving.

Anita left and returned quickly with two vials of medication and syringes. Quietly, she snapped gloves onto her hands and drew a measure of clear liquid into a syringe. As she pushed the drug into the IV port on the back of Olivia's right hand, she spoke softly to explain what she was doing. "Dr. Brown asked me to give her a dose of compazine. It'll help calm her stomach. If she needs to vomit again in the next six hours, I want you to call a nurse immediately and we'll try something else." Alex nodded as she spoke, caressing her moaning lover's clammy skin. Anita withdrew the syringe and dropped it into the sharps container before picking up the second needle.

Again, she drew a clear liquid into the syringe and inserted the needle into the IV port. "The valium is going to make her very sleepy, but the rest is the best thing for her right now. Dr. Brown is worried that the Ativan didn't help with the tremors so she's switching her to valium which is a stronger sedative. We're starting her on a low dose but if she needs it, we'll increase it. Any tremors and you should call us. Alright?" She disposed of the syringe and her gloves and glanced in Alex's direction. Alex nodded seriously, meeting Anita's calm gaze. Anita returned her nod. "I'll be back to check on Ms. Benson in an hour, but if you need anything, just call." Alex nodded again and Anita left the two women alone, closing the door softly behind her.

Olivia's trembling and moans continued for a long time as she rested in Alex's loving arms. Periodically, Alex whispered soothingly to her lover, especially when Olivia's grip on the blonde's hand tightened desperately. Eventually, the tremors began to gradually ease and Olivia's hand lolled more heavily against Alex's caressing palm. Finally, she lay perfectly still, her breathing slow and even. Alex held her until she was sure Olivia was sleeping peacefully before she began to ease back to her feet.

Moving slowly and carefully, she slid from behind Olivia, supporting the unconscious brunette as she stood and repositioned the brunette's pillow. Tenderly, she lowered Olivia back to rest against the pillow and she tugged the blankets up to tuck them under her girlfriend's chin. As Alex moved, Olivia sighed but didn't wake and turned her head to cushion her cheek against the pillow's cool cloth.

Leaning over the prostrate woman, Alex laid her hand with a feather-light pressure on Olivia's forehead. The brunette was pale though her cheeks were flushed. The color was too bright and almost garish against her ashen face, the flush of a sick woman and not the healthy glow Alex longed to see. Quietly, Alex straightened and walked to pick up her purse. She would take a break for a little while and go to the cafeteria. She was exhausted, but she wanted to remain strong for her lover. She had to eat something to do that so, regret lining her expression, Alex slipped from the quiet room.

Alex let her head rest heavily in her hand as she picked at her salad and coffee. This was not the way she had fantasized about coming home to Olivia. For long months since she was torn away from her life and her lover, Alex had comforted herself with daydreams of returning to New York City. In her private thoughts, she could be herself, Alex Cabot. When Emily's loneliness overwhelmed her, Alex retreated into her memories and her hopes for the future and Olivia's past and future role in her life. Sometimes, as she lay between the sheets in her silent bedroom, Alex remembered. But, more often, she dreamed of the future.

With exquisite detail, she imagined Velez's barren funeral and Porter's triumphant expression as he came to rescue her from her windswept prison. She could feel the suitcase dropping from her grasp, hear the sound as it hit the concrete, as she felt herself enveloped in Olivia's embrace. In her thoughts, Olivia smiled with unbearable relief and raised her lips so the blonde could kiss her. It would be perfect; for Alex, no reunion with Olivia could be less than perfect.

Alex numbly chewed the limp lettuce of her salad and consumed the cold chicken without tasting it. She ate only out of necessity. If it was possible, she would have stayed with her injured girlfriend without break. But the strongly rational voice in the back of her mind insisted that a few moments away were necessary. She had to keep her mind balanced and her body healthy if she wanted to help her lover. It was unavoidable.

Rubbing her eyes, Alex tilted her head back to drink the last mouthful of her coffee before setting the empty cup back on her tray. Groaning inwardly, she stood to dispose of her dishes. As she moved, Alex kept her eyes to herself; almost lost in her own grief, she knew that even a glance at the cafeteria's quiet, worried inhabitants would break her tenuous hold over her emotions.

Returning silently to Olivia's dim room, Alex resumed her now customary watch over her girlfriend's sleeping form. Leaning across the narrow bed, Alex laid her hand gently on Olivia's covered arm but quickly pulled it away. As soon as her fingertips touched the brunette, Olivia flinched. Even through her drugged sleep, Olivia refused to be touched without permission. Heart breaking, Alex wrapped the offending hand around her own hip. If she couldn't hold Olivia, then she would hold onto herself. She was strong enough to wait until Olivia was ready. After all, she had held herself for years in Wisconsin, always pretending that the touch was Olivia's.


	12. Chapter 12

It was only the sensation of movement that finally startled Alex from her exhausted sleep. Forgetting where she was, she jerked upright, grabbing her neck when her cramped muscles cried out in protest. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts and rub at the knots in her shoulders, Alex slowly registered the sunlight outside the curtained windows and Anita's familiar presence at Olivia's bedside. It was morning. Noticing the nurse's eyes upon her, Alex looked up and smiled weakly. "Morning," she rasped, clearing her throat.

Anita's expression was warm and comforting as she returned Alex's greeting. "Ms. Cabot, I'm here to change Ms. Benson's bandages. Sarah told me that you'll be Ms. Benson's caregiver once she is discharged and that she introduced you to how we care for the wounds. Would you like to stay while I work this morning?"

Slowly, Alex nodded. Her mind was still clouded by sleep and emotional exhaustion, but she steeled herself. Despite the vivid and visceral memories of her last glimpse at Olivia's injuries, Alex forced herself to be ready. She had to, for Olivia's sake.

At Anita's beckoning, Alex rose on shaky legs to better observe the nurse's deft movements. For the blonde's benefit, Anita worked slowly and talked patiently through her actions. These women had already suffered enough trauma; Anita was loathe to cause them any more unnecessary pain. Gently, the nurse folded the blankets down to Olivia's waist. She moved slowly, keeping her touch light so as not to disturb the injured woman. The valium still kept Olivia in a deep but fitful sleep for which Anita and Alex were both silently grateful.

As Anita carefully undid the top of Olivia's blue hospital gown and let it bunch over her abdomen, Alex took a steadying breath. Her lover's body was splotched with dark bruises and partially hidden by thick gauze pads taped over hidden wounds. With extensively practiced motions, the nurse peeled away the strips of medical tape and white pads and revealed the mangled, healing remains of Olivia's once beautiful breasts. Alex gasped reflexively, struggling against an invisible chokehold around her throat, and struggled to remain standing. Suddenly, her knees were no longer simply shaky but seemingly useless. If not for Anita's strong grasp under her arms, Alex would have collapsed.

"Ms. Cabot, I understand," she said calmly. "Just try to take long, slow breaths. That's right." Under the hypnotizing spell of the nurse's steadying voice and the horrifying vision of her girlfriend's body, Alex felt as it she were floating high in the room. Unconsciously, her legs regained the strength to hold her body and Anita released her, though Alex hardly noticed. Olivia was all she saw, all she sensed, and she reeled in sympathetic pain as she involuntarily imagined the torture the brunette had suffered.

As she watched, jaw clenched, Anita resumed her work and her soft litany of explanations. "The trauma to Ms. Benson's body is quite severe but, barring any complications, a plastic surgeon will be able to repair much of the damage. Right now, we are changing the bandages every day and we'll keep this schedule until the wounds are closed by scabs. The frequency and the application of this antibacterial ointment will help prevent infection." As she spoke, she held up the ointment, showed Alex the new bandages and demonstrated how to reapply them without irritating Olivia's skin. She frequently glanced at the blonde; she was unresponsive but her blue eyes carefully followed every motion of Anita's hands they moved over the prone woman's body. Anita sighed inwardly. She had seen this look in loved one's eyes before. Alex was overwhelmed, bewildered and shocked, but learning. There was hope that these two women would survive this.

Alex pulled into the Mercy General parking lot and threw her rented sedan carelessly into park. Only after enduring Elliot's and Fin's long heartfelt coaxing had Alex agreed to leave the hospital for a few hours to pick up some extra clothes and toiletries and a breath of fresh air. But she had no intention of wasting any precious moments with Olivia unnecessarily. So she had sped off to do her shopping, leaving Stabler hovering at her girlfriend's beside, and returned without so much as a minute spared.

She entered the hospital room quietly, setting her shopping bags on an open chair and moving to stand at Elliot's side. "Elliot," she murmured. "Thanks. How is she?"

"She was awake a little while ago. She asked for you but she was pretty out of it. Get everything you need?"

Alex nodded with a vague gesture towards the plastic bags and Elliot grunted softly. "Well, if you two'll be alright, I guess I'll head home. Call if you need anything." Alex nodded again and, with a gentle touch to her shoulder, Elliot turned and left her alone with Olivia.

Loathe to return to her painfully familiar seat by the bed, Alex moved slowly around the room. She folded her new clothes, lined up her toiletries along the rim of the tiny bathroom's sink, and arranged the flowers she brought on the windowsill. As she paused to admire the lines of sunlight against the bright white and yellow petals, a soft sigh startled her. Gracefully, she turned and her tired expression melted when she caught Olivia's eye. She smiled tenderly and sank onto her customary stool.

"Hi, darling," she murmured. Alex ached to touch the brunette, to comfort them both. Olivia looked so thin, so sad. Alex could hardly stand the intense flood of emotions that shook her as Olivia fixed her with that unbearably sorrowful gaze. They sat still and in silence for a few breaths, each simply taking the time to feel the other's presence. It had been a long lonely time for both since they had last spent real time together.

"I want to sit up," Olivia whispered softly, her voice hardly audible. Conscientious of her injured lover's skittishness, Alex moved to pick up the bed's controls gingerly, without even brushing against the brunette. The head of the narrow hospital bed began to rise slowly. Olivia winced in pain under Alex's watchful eye but made no sound. Finally she waved her fingers feebly and Alex set the controls back onto the edge of the mattress. For a moment, Olivia let her eyes flutter shut as she adjusted to the new aches and pains caused by her changed position before again meeting Alex's worried gaze. She shivered.

Alex leapt carefully to her feet. "I almost forgot. I brought you a present." She snatched a stack of items from a chair and quickly returned, a sad but triumphant grin brightening her face. Settling back onto her stool, she set the items on her girlfriend's bed before holding the first up for Olivia's appraisal.

"You're always cold so I thought I'd bring you this. Can I …" she trailed off, watching Olivia uncertainly as she spoke. Slowly, biting her lip, the brunette nodded and Alex's smile widened. With exceeding tenderness, Alex eased the stocking cap onto Olivia's head, tugging it gently over the tops of her ears. Leaning back, she smiled softly. The cap was a sweet-looking brown, woolen and lined with soft flannel. Under the folded edge, Olivia's eyes looked darker and the olive tones in her skin were pronounced, alleviating some of her grey pallor. "It looks good, darling," Alex murmured.

Though her expression was wan and tinged by pain, Olivia smiled a small smile and Alex's heart rose. For a moment, she caught a brief glimpse of the woman who had haunted her dreams for all of her lonely years. But too soon, Olivia's smile faded, the pain and exhaustion too much for her, and Alex held up her second gift.

With Olivia's weakly nodded permission, Alex looped the scarf around her girlfriend's neck and folded it neatly under her chin. She ran her long fingers along the soft, dark knit before draping the ends over Olivia's slack hands. To her gratification, Olivia's bony, brutalized fingers folded over the fringe and rubbed the threads reflexively. "I thought, maybe, you could hold it instead … I mean, if you…" Olivia sighed and let her cheek loll against the pillow.

"I understand," she rasped gently. "I'm … Alex, I'm sorry I can't…" Her expression creased with gentleness, Alex hushed her.

"Liv, don't. You don't have to. I won't touch you without your permission and I won't leave you. Now, you still have more presents." She smiled and lifted a tiny box for Olivia to see. "You remember that scent of mine you always liked?" Olivia smiled softly, the memory clear in her dark eyes.

"You didn't," she whispered.

"Well, it's only a drugstore knockoff. I didn't have time to get the real thing. Now, hold out your wrist." Olivia weakly turned her hand over and Alex spritzed the perfume onto her pale wrist. She grinned as the subtle scent of jasmine filled the tiny room, lessening the overpowering odor of hospital antiseptic. Olivia closed her eyes and inhaled, peace easing the tense edges of her expression. "Now you're just as beautiful as I remember," Alex murmured tenderly. Olivia chuckled feebly, her laugh like a sad sigh, and continued to breathe the familiar scent.

Finally, she sighed again. "I'm so tired, Alex," she whispered.

"Go to sleep, Liv," Alex said quietly. "I'll be here when you wake up." But before she finished her gentle assurance, Olivia's face grew slack and her breathing regular. Moving slowly and carefully, Alex settled into a more comfortable chair and flipped open one of the magazines she had purchased. She was glad she had bought such a tall stack of reading material; she had the feeling that she would need it.

Alex did not even realize that she had dropped off to sleep when she was woken by the rasping sound of frantic breathing. She heaved herself jerkily from her seat, scattering magazines onto the tile floor and gasping as her spine cracked loudly. Blindly, Alex scrabbled to find the light switch and flipped on the dim lamp over the head of Olivia's bed. She hissed in shock at the imaged that greeted her.

Olivia's eyes were creased in pain as she wheezed laboriously and clawed weakly at her chest. Instincts kicking in, Alex lunged for the call button and mashed it violently, as if doing so would move the nurses more quickly. Returning her attention to the struggling brunette, Alex reached out to grasp Olivia's hands before stopping short, her hands wavering above her girlfriend's shuddering body. Though her heart screamed for her to comfort Olivia, Alex's rational mind forced her to stop. She was afraid that the physical contact might frighten the brunette further and worsen her strained breath.

Finally, after a few moments that felt like an eternity to the frightened blonde, the room's door cracked open, flooding the room with the bright fluorescent lighting from the hall. Alex whipped around to face the nurse, her panicked expression conveying the situation before she even managed to speak. "Nurse," she rushed breathlessly. "She's having trouble breathing."

The nurse, an unfamiliar plump redhead, quickly crossed the small room and bent to check Olivia's vitals before punching the call button again. Within seconds, a second nurse appeared silhouetted in the doorway. "Jeannine," barked the redhead. "I need oxygen and nitroglycerin now." The second nurse quickly turned to obey and the redhead returned her attention to her patient. "Ms. Benson," she said briskly. "My name is Amanda. Do you feel pressure in your chest?" Olivia nodded feebly.

"Alright, I need you to try to take slow deep breaths and calm down." Olivia's eyes were wide and her brow deeply creased but she nodded again as Amanda adjusted the IV needle that had come loose in her struggle for breath. Soon, the second nurse reappeared. She passed a small oxygen tank to Amanda and shook a tiny pill into the palm of her gloved hand.

"I need to put this under your tongue, Ms. Benson," Jeannine said calmly. "It'll help with the pressure in your chest." Trembling violently, Olivia complied and the nurse slipped the pill into her mouth. Amanda placed a plastic mask over Olivia's nose and mouth before twisting the knob at the top of the gas bottle.

"Deep breaths, Ms. Benson," coaxed the redhead encouragingly, nodding her head slowly in time with the gradually easing rise and fall of her patient's chest. The four women remained in tense silence for a few minutes as Olivia's breaths increased in regularity and the frightened set of her shoulders relaxed. Finally, Amanda nodded. "Alright Ms. Benson, Ms. Cabot. If any of the symptoms come back, call us again. Otherwise, we'll be back to check on you in thirty minutes. Until then, keep the mask on and try to breathe normally." Glancing quickly at Alex for understanding, Amanda beckoned for Alex to follow her into the hall.

Out of Olivia's hearing, Amanda turned to Alex. "Ms. Cabot, Ms. Benson suffered some damage to the muscles of her heart due to the methamphetamine she was forced to take. That's what's causing her breathing difficulty and the sensation of pressure in her chest. The doctor says it's too early to know if the damage is permanent, but she needs to be watched carefully. Tonight, we'll monitor her closely and in the morning we'll have another EEG done." Alex nodded in blind acceptance, her only thoughts of returning to Olivia's side. Satisfied that the blonde understood, Amanda touched her gently on the shoulder before beckoning for Jeannine to follow. She turned and walked back towards the nurses' station, Jeannine close behind, and Alex returned to the hospital room.

Once she was again alone with her girlfriend, Alex flexed her fingers gingerly. Until that moment, she hadn't even registered the pain radiating through her knuckles from the desperate grip she had maintained on the hospital bed's railing during the entire tense situation. She stepped on numb legs towards her stool and sank down, bracing herself as she looked at her suffering girlfriend.

Olivia's expression and posture signaled only extreme exhaustion. She still wore the woolen cap and under its hem her eyes were heavy-lidded and ringed by black circles. Her complexion was worryingly grey and new lines were carved along the edges of her forehead and across her cheeks. Suddenly she looked far older than her age.

Alex's stoic façade melted under Olivia's sorrowful, steady gaze. She had never seen such a sad expression and it cut her deeply. With excruciatingly slow motions, Alex raised her hands and reached towards Olivia. "May I?" Alex whispered gently. Olivia granted her permission with the smallest of nods and Alex leaned forward. Tenderly, she lifted the edges of the scarf she had given Olivia for warmth and comfort and tucked them under her girlfriend's chin, careful not to physically touch the brunette. Hesitantly, she withdrew her hands and folded them back in her lap.

Weakly, Olivia dragged her hands across the blankets to rest her fingers among the scarf's soft fringe. Blinking slowly and continuing to breathe with relative ease, she kept her tiredly anguished gaze fixed on the blonde at her side. Finally, and with painful effort, she spoke, her whisper hardly audible from behind the plastic oxygen mask. "Alex, tell me about…" Closing her eyes briefly, she trailed off.

With slowly growing relief, Alex sighed and smiled palely at her girlfriend. "Alright, Liv. Let me think." She fell quiet for a moment before taking a deep breath and beginning.

"They took me to a hotel where I met a group of Feds. They briefed me on my new identity, handed me an envelope containing all of the documents making me a new person. They told me my name was Emily Swanson, from Chicago. They told me Alex Cabot was dead, buried and forgotten. After a few days, they drove me to Wisconsin. I just remember it was cold, like I've never felt before, and windy." She paused in her story to let her eyes flicker to meet Olivia's. She noticed that the brunette was gently rubbing the pads of her fingers along the comforting softness of her scarf.

"My house was nice. It was blue and had a yard full of tall oak trees. I liked it. It was quiet and shady and the sunlight used to come in through the windows when the sun went down every night. You would have liked it.

My job was a different story. I was an insurance claims adjuster in a cubicle, typing numbers into a calculator eight hours a day. It was duller than I could have imagined. But I did have a friend there. Her name was Harriet. We went out for drinks a few times and she came back to my house but I never could forget you, Liv. She didn't understand and I couldn't tell her. Eventually, she found someone else but we stayed friends." Alex let her voice fade and she lapsed into silence. While she had been speaking, Olivia's eyelids had grown heavier and heavier, eventually fluttering closed. Alex smiled sadly down at her.

Gently, Alex tugged at the hem of the blankets, pulling them towards Olivia's shoulders. She was glad the brunette was asleep. More than anything, Alex longed to climb under the warm blankets with her lover and hold her securely in her arms. It was the image that had most often surfaced in her mind's eye while she was separated from Olivia. But, Alex resigned herself to yet another night's sleep in the chair by Olivia's bedside. She would hold her soon enough.

Wearily, Alex shuffled quietly to the room's tiny bathroom. A shower and fresh clothes would be the next best thing and she was desperate for any measure of comfort. She closed the door softly and flicked on the stream of water. Achingly, she began to strip off her wrinkled clothes and finger-comb her tangled hair. Just a quick one, she thought to herself, and then time for bed. She needed to catch some sleep while she could, while Olivia was safe and oblivious. When she woke, Alex was determined to be fresh and alert. Short of turning back time, it would be the best she could do for her injured lover.


	13. Chapter 13

Alex lay curled on the cot one of the nurses had brought and set up at Olivia's bedside. She held the sterile-smelling blankets tightly around her body and squeezed her eyes shut, begging for sleep. But it was no use; she was simply too exhausted to relax. Instead, she allowed her mind to wander. Two years was a long time. She wished she could know what had happened in her home, to her lover during those long months. But, unable to know, she let herself imagine.

She hoped Olivia had been happy. And, even though the thought made her heart ache, she hoped Olivia had someone in her life. With her heartrending job, Olivia needed someone to love her and comfort her. Alex couldn't bear the thought of her darling brunette lonely. She comforted herself with images of Olivia secure in some other woman's love.

The sounds of rustling roused Alex from her imaginary world. Alex rolled onto her other side so that she faced Olivia's bed. Even in the dim light, Alex clearly registered that Olivia moved and trembled violently. Pushing the blankets to the end of her cot, Alex rose and approached the bedside. The sight of her lover writhing in her blankets, in the throes of a nightmare, broke her already abused heart. She sank down to sit on the edge of the narrow hospital bed.

Quickly, she flipped on the light over the head of Olivia's bed. The brunette's expression was contorted with pain and terror, her brows deeply creased and her eyes were squeezed so tightly closed that they were mere slits in her pale face. Her jaw worked convulsively and Alex winced as she saw Olivia's hands knotted together, bloody streaks standing out against the white bandages around her injured fingertips.

Alex reached out to touch Olivia, to comfort her and wake her from her nightmare, but she hesitated. She had a choice to make. Touch frightened Olivia, made her mind flash back to her weeks in torturous captivity, and Alex was loathe to put her abused friend through any more pain. On the other hand, Olivia was clearly struggling in her dream. Already, her fingers were bleeding and Alex was afraid she might accidentally reopen her other, more serious wounds. After a moment, she allowed her hands to continue their motion.

Tenderly, she touched Olivia's cheek with her fingertips and reached to hold Olivia's stiff fingers with her other hand. "Liv, wake up. It's just a dream, sweetie. Come on." Olivia jerked away from her touch, her breath hitching raspily in her chest, but Alex persisted. She cupped her palm around Olivia's relatively uninjured cheek and began to brush her thumb over the soft, warm skin. Moaning breathily, Olivia flinched and turned her head and she grasped Alex's hands with surprising, desperate intensity.

Alex leaned down and spoke louder but maintained her calm tone. "Olivia, wake up. Please wake up." Finally, Olivia's eyes flew open and looked blankly up at the worried blonde woman. She blinked a few times before the life returned to her eyes. Fright tightened her expression and she again shuddered away from Alex's touch. Remembering herself, Alex quickly withdrew her hands and moved from the bed to sit on her stool.

"You were having a nightmare, honey. I had to wake you," Alex murmured, her eyes never leaving Olivia's pained face. Olivia sighed tiredly and, grimacing, moved her hands to once again tangle in her scarf's fringe. Her eyes opened and closed slowly and she turned her head so her cheek rested against the cool pillowcase.

With effort, Olivia raised her eyes to meet Alex's. "I thought you were a dream, that I was still…" Her voice was weak and trembling and faded into silence.

"I'm not a dream, Liv. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." As she spoke, Alex poured a little water into a plastic cup with a straw. "Here, sweetie, take a drink." She held the straw to Olivia's cracked lips and held the cup as the brunette drank slowly. After a few sips, Olivia turned her head slightly away and Alex replaced the cup on a small nearby table.

She sat in silence, trying to comfort the brunette with her presence and her eyes and aching to hold her in her arms. Olivia took a deep, steadying breath and met Alex's gaze. "Tell me more, Alex," she breathed quietly. Alex smiled weakly.

"I learned how to cross country ski, Liv. It snows so much in Wisconsin in the winter and it looks beautiful when it covers the fields and the sun shines. I used to go with my neighbors on the weekends. The first time, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. You think that it'll be so easy, sliding along on the snow, and it is until you have to up a hill. Even a little hill and you have to work so hard to keep from sliding back down." She paused to look down at the shaken brunette. To her reassurance, Olivia's expression was tired but calm and the faintest hint of a smile played at the corners of her abused lips.

Alex shifted to a more comfortable position and continued. "After a few times, I got stronger and I started to love it. The sun was bright and the snow sparkled. The air was cold but so fresh, like no one had ever breathed it before. Sometimes, I went alone, to clear my head and think. Sometimes I thought about you, Liv. I hoped that you were happy and loved and I regretted with all my heart that I couldn't be there with you. Maybe I'll teach you to ski when you're out of here. We could do it together." She smiled at the imagined memory and glanced at Olivia.

The brunette was perfectly still but for the small motions of her fingers caressing the scarf for comfort. Her face was relaxed but pale and the lamp light threw her lashes and the dark circles under her eyes into deep relief. She needed sleep. Alex poured tenderness into her expression and leaned slightly towards her lover. "I'm going to turn off the light, Liv, but I'll keep talking to you until you go to sleep. Alright?"

Olivia nodded weakly and Alex flipped the light switch. Once the room was bathed in darkness, Alex blinked to adjust her eyes and settled back to continue her story. "The snow in Wisconsin is so much nicer than it is here in New York. Here, it only feels cold and the snow on the curbs is black and studded with gravel before you can enjoy it. In Wisconsin, the snow stays bright white until the spring. When it falls, the flakes are huge and you can feel them hitting your face and hands. You can pretend that you're the only one in the world, just you and the trees and the snow."

Alex paused. Olivia's breathing was soft and regular, with none of the gasping terror Alex had become so accustomed to. Through the dim light, Alex could see Olivia's closed eyes and her slack jaw. Even her fingers had stilled. Moving slowly, Alex sighed and curled back into the warm blankets of her cot. She laid facing Olivia's bedside and let her eyelids flutter closed. The tightly wound emotions that had plagued her earlier were eased by her long conversation with Olivia. She liked watching the stillness grow in the brunette's expression as she told her stories and it put her mind at relative ease. Yawning with exhaustion, Alex curled more tightly around herself and pulled the blankets to her chin. Maybe sleep would come after all.


	14. Chapter 14

It had been a rough night, one of the worst since Alex had first set foot in Mercy General. Unlike other nights, it hadn't been breathing troubles or withdrawal-induced shakes or any other medical issues interrupting the sleep Olivia so desperately needed. Rather, it had been nightmares. Dreams that only ended when Alex begged Olivia to wake, to calm down and take deep breaths. Nightmares that contorted Olivia's drawn expression in to one of terror and awful pain and caused her to claw at her body with bandaged fingertips.

Three times during the night Alex had leaned over her suffering girlfriend and flipped on the light. Three times she had dug her own fingertips in her sides, fighting against the nearly overpowering urge to reach out and comfort the brunette. She knew that neither she nor Olivia could handle the flinching and spikes of fear resulting from even the slightest touch. Instead, she bent to be close to her, schooling her expression to one of a perfect calm she didn't feel, and spoke quietly. Alex only hoped that her words would soothe the brunette and allow her some real rest.

Each time, Olivia eventually stilled and relaxed back onto the pillows. Each time, she looked up at Alex, her eyes sunken and bloodshot but still the same dark brown Alex loved. With the slightest whisper, Olivia asked for Alex to talk to her, to tell her a story, and, each time, Alex complied gladly. She chose among the many things she wanted to tell the woman she loved about their years apart and began to speak, her voice slow and quiet. Soon, Olivia's eyes grew heavy and her breathing steadier. She always slipped off to sleep to the rhythm of Alex's words and the blonde smiled tiredly. She wished the drugs were more effective. She wished that Olivia could make it through the night without trauma. But she was willing to stay with her no matter how many times Olivia woke and needed comfort.

Alex groaned and closed her fingers around her girlfriend's. If Olivia was waking her, she must be late. She turned her head to rest on her other cheek but, as she moved, she groaned again. The muscles of her neck were tight and stiff. Dammit, she thought to herself, you must have fallen asleep on the desk again. Clenching her teeth and squinting her eyes, she sat up and gingerly stretched her neck. Slowly, she forced her eyes open despite the sunlight streaming in through the window. "Morning, Liv," she murmured sleepily, clearing her throat.

She met Olivia's eyes and, memories rushing back and cutting through the haze of sleep, started. Her gaze snapped down to her hand and then back up to the brunette. She instinctively unclenched her fingers, her expression transforming quickly from sleepiness to shame and uncertainty. "I'm sorry, Liv. I don't…"

"Alex," Olivia whispered. "It's okay. I … wanted to." A smile tugged at the corner of her lips though it was feeble, the exhaustion and pain dampening her emotions. Alex sat stunned for a moment, searching Olivia's face, before she too smiled. Slowly, she let her fingers close over Olivia's and her face brightened though she watched the brunette carefully. As her fingers were enclosed within Alex's, Olivia flinched a little but did not pull her hand away.

"Oh, Liv," she said. This was a step, she thought to herself. This was a step forward. She wanted to say something more, something that would express her sorrow and hope and love for the brunette, but, for once, she was speechless. Instead, she tightened her fingers a little and smiled with heartfelt enthusiasm. "How did you sleep, sweetie?"

Olivia only groaned quietly, shifting a fraction and frowning. She moved her hand a little closer to Alex's and buried the other in the soft fringe of the scarf. She was tired and in pain but she wanted this. She wanted so desperately to touch the blonde without jerking away. It had been so long since they had really touched. Olivia wanted to have those feelings of comfort and love again, to erase the terrible memories in Alex's embrace.

Hours later, Olivia was blessedly asleep. Alex hated that the brunette had to rely on drugs for her tiniest moments of peace but she hated the fact that Olivia asked for them even more. Olivia had changed since Alex had last seen her. The detective she remembered would have fought against the doctors, refused the sedation with every inch of herself. She would have torn the IV from her hand and struggled to leave even if there was no way out. Now she asked for the drugs, begged without words for the opportunity to shut her eyes and drift into unconsciousness. Alex wondered when the changes had happened and hoped the old Olivia would come back someday. She was impatient but she would wait. She had already waited two years.

She looked down at the fingers resting slack in her palm. All this time, Olivia hadn't withdrawn from her touch. Alex was grateful and hopeful. She sandwiched Olivia's hand between both of hers and sighed. It was thin but so warm. Olivia was alive and Alex was alive with her.

A soft knock startled Alex from her reverie and she looked over her shoulder. Anita walked into the small room pushing a familiar tray before her. She smiled warmly at the blonde and moved to stand on the opposite side of the bed. She gestured to Alex's hands. "Did she …?"

Alex nodded brightly, happy to have someone to share this momentous step forward with. Anita's expression crinkled with genuine happiness. "That's wonderful, Ms. Cabot." With practiced movements, she folded the blue cloth back from the tray and snapped on a pair of gloves. She glanced at the seated blonde. "Do you want to stay?" she asked carefully.

The smile faded from Alex's face but she nodded again, determinedly. Satisfied and glad that the blonde seemed to be gaining strength, Anita gently pulled the blankets from her patient's body and pushed the gown up to her waist. As she worked, she periodically checked on the seated woman. This was going to be rough; no one deserved to have to see a loved one brutalized in this way.

With extra patience, Anita eased the bandages from Olivia's skin, using scissors to cut them away where they stuck to the wounds. She carefully pulled them away, watching Alex out of the corner of her eye as the blonde took in her first glimpse of her girlfriend's most private wounds. Alex gasped, choking at the horrific sight, and pressed her unconscious girlfriend's hand more tightly between her own. She needed to feel the warmth in her fingers to remind her that Olivia was alive and she would recover in time. She clung to the limp hand to keep from drowning.

"Breathe, Ms. Cabot. Deep breaths, come on." Anita's soft but firm voice brought Alex back from the fear and worry pushing her away and gave her something to concentrate on. She inhaled deeply and steadily, closing her eyes for a moment before reopening them and meeting Anita's concerned look. She nodded and the nurse returned her attention to the prone brunette.

With the professional tenderness one only found in a nurse's hands, Anita dabbed at the scabbing and stitched wounds with a damp cloth. Some of the dried blood had to be cleaned away before she could properly assess the state of the wounds. Alex continued to breathe, her eyes glued to the gruesomely mutilated genitals of the love of her life. Olivia gasped once in her sleep, turning her head restlessly. Alex's hand suddenly shot out and she touched her fingertips to Anita's gloved hand. She looked tensely up at the nurse, her blue eyes wide and serious. "Anita," she said. "Don't hurt her. Please."

Anita nodded gently. She had worked in hospitals for a long time; she understood the worry and nerves Alex struggled to hide just below the surface. "Ms. Cabot, you just need to relax. Ms. Benson is…" Alex interrupted.

"Please," she said. "Call her Olivia. Her name is Olivia." Anita smiled down at the blonde.

"Alright, Olivia it is. Olivia is on painkillers and she's asleep. If she does feel pain, she won't remember. I have to clean the wounds so that they don't become infected. She's already fighting a staph infection and she can't handle any more stress." She paused, watching the worried woman carefully. Slowly, Alex drew her hand away and replaced it on top of Olivia's. Satisfied, Anita continued, working slowly and with extra care. Though she knew it had to be done, she was also loathe to cause the injured woman any unnecessary pain.

With feather light touches, she smeared antibacterial ointment on the wounds. To her gratification, Olivia's expression relaxed and she made no further movements. She covered the wounds with fresh gauze and taped it securely into place. Careful not to disturb the bandages, Anita replaced the gown and pulled the blankets to cover her patient. She snapped her gloves off and dropped them on the tray before crossing the room to the linen closet. She pulled out a fresh blanket and spread it over Olivia's still body. She paused and laid her hand on Alex's shoulder. "I don't want her to get cold." Alex smiled though her face was unusually pale and Anita returned the gesture before wheeling the tray from the room. She chuckled to herself. Alex and Olivia would be fine. Step by step, Anita was sure they would be fine.


	15. Chapter 15

Alex rinsed the shampoo from her long hair, working her fingers through the sopping strands to shed the last of the suds. Olivia was asleep and Alex was enjoying the comfort of the warm water and the fresh scent of soap. She smoothed conditioner onto the ends of her blonde hair before turning to let the hot water spray over her face. The warmth was permeating and Alex welcomed it. She spent her waking moments giving her darling, injured girlfriend as much as she could. But, for a little while, Alex needed time to recharge.

As she massaged cleanser onto the smooth skin of her nose and cheeks, Alex wondered when she had started calling Olivia her girlfriend again. Her strongly analytical mind forced her to face the facts. Prior to Elliot's fateful visit to her Wisconsin home a few weeks ago, she hadn't seen Olivia in two years. What right did she have to still consider Olivia as hers? There was always the possibility that Olivia had moved on, had found another lover or had chosen to remain single for a little while. She had no way of knowing if Olivia still maintained her feelings for the blonde. But, for some reason, Alex felt it was right. She felt that Olivia was still indeed hers. She smiled.

A sound from beyond the tiny bathroom's door startled her and she hurriedly shut off the water. Stepping from the shower, Alex roughly toweled the water from her body and thrust her limbs into fresh clothes. Now there were men's and women's muffled voices emanating from the hospital room and Alex's heart leapt high into her throat. Panic beginning to squeeze her chest, Alex ripped open the door and momentarily froze at the sight before her.

Nurses and a white-coated doctor were crowded around Olivia's bed, speaking in urgent, hushed tones and bending low over the prone woman. Alex broke from her paralysis and rushed forward, pushing a nurse aside as he tried to stop her. She grasped the cold rail of Olivia's bed and leaned down. The brunette was flushed, the color sickly and too bright against her ashen complexion. She grasped and clutched the blankets, her dark feverish eyes darting and flinching, focusing on sights Alex couldn't see.

Gathering herself, Alex shoved her fear brutally away. "Olivia, calm down," she gasped, her voice tinged with stress and blind terror. "Liv, please, it's me. What's wrong?" She clenched her teeth and tightened her grip on the rail until her knuckles turned deathly white. To her relief, Olivia turned to face her and her brown eyes focused with relentless intent. Alex's relief, however, was cruelly short-lived.

"Run," gasped the brunette. "Get out. He'll … he'll hurt you." Olivia's voice was only a horrible whisper, filled with terror and desperate urging. Her hand darted out and grasped Alex's wrist, her effort sincere but her pressure frightfully feeble. Chest heaving with deep, shuddering breaths, Olivia fought to convey her urgency to her girlfriend. If Alex was hurt … Olivia pushed the thought aside. She could save the blonde. "Alex, go. Please go. And … I love you. But you have to run, right now, before he knows. Go!"

Alex worked her jaw, reflexively, uncertainly, and then realization dawned on her. Olivia was back … there. She wanted Alex to save herself. She parted her lips to reassure the brunette, to convince her that they were safe, but she was interrupted as a nurse grabbed her. With strong and experienced arms, he turned the tall but slight blonde and escorted her firmly from the chaotic room. They rounded the corner and set off down the hall towards the waiting room, but Alex suddenly twisted and broke away. She had an idea.

She rushed back to the doorway, gripping the hard edge with her long, strong fingers. "Olivia," she shouted. "Olivia, I'm free! I'm free!" Then, relinquishing her tight grip, she allowed the nurse to take hold of her arms and lead her away. She hoped that Olivia had heard her. She hoped it had given her dear girlfriend some comfort from the nightmares plaguing her fevered mind.

Alex waited, if it could be called that. Rather, she paced the crowded waiting room, avoiding eye contact with other patients' loved ones and focusing exclusively on her footsteps over the worn carpet. One foot in front of the other was her mantra and she stuck to it religiously. Her steps counted the seconds until a nurse came for her, until she could rejoin her girlfriend in the now painfully familiar, drab room. She never thought she would be so desperate to be in a hospital.

Finally, as people were starting to throw irritable glances her way, Alex saw a familiar nurse walking briskly into the waiting room. "Ms. Cabot…" he said quietly. Alex stopped in her tracks and turned, stumbling slightly in her hurry. Her customary grace was only the latest casualty in her fight to support her girlfriend. But Alex recovered quickly and fell into step with the nurse. Anything to get back to Olivia's side.

The scene in the hospital room was blessedly calm when Alex returned. Only Amanda stood by the side of Olivia's bed, hanging a fresh IV bag and checking the dosing dial; the other men and women had left. Alex moved to enter the dim room but paused at Amanda's silently raised hand. Amanda gave the room's quietly beeping equipment one last glance before walking towards the door. Joining Alex in the hall, Amanda smiled reassuringly and beckoned for the blonde to follow her to the nurses' station.

"Ms. Cabot, as you know, when Ms. Benson came in she had some friction wounds on her ankles, wrists and neck which were infected with staph. Usually, skin infections are easy to treat but, due to her weakened condition, the infection has moved into her bloodstream and she's septic. We've put her on a combination of IV antibiotics to clear it up as well as a fever reducer, but she's very sick so we have to take some extra precautions." She paused and held up a surgical face mask. "When you see her, you'll need to wear this and before you go in, you need to always stop here and wash your hands. Ms. Benson's immune system is compromised and she won't be able to fight off any secondary infection."

Alex nodded sedately, maintaining her steely grip on her emotions. It was an exercise she had had to practice too often and she was an expert. She took the mask and tied it securely into place before stepping to the indicated sink to wash her hands. Breathing evenly, Alex used the time to center herself. It was the tiredness that made all of this so unbearable. She felt like she hadn't slept for weeks. She chuckled quietly to herself. She hadn't felt like this since she had worked with SVU. It was the one thing she hadn't missed during her life in Wisconsin. Dropping the paper towel into a nearby garbage can, Alex turned and gave the nurses a quick nod before heading back to Olivia's room.

To Alex's great relief, Olivia was resting quietly in her bed. Though the fever still lit up her cheeks, Olivia's expression was still, even serene. Sadly, Alex noted her girlfriend's bare head and wild short hair. She walked around the end of the hospital bed and spotted the hat and scarf discarded carelessly on an empty chair. She retrieved the items and gingerly rested her hip on the edge of the mattress. With slow and tender movements, Alex eased the brown stocking cap back onto her lover's head and tugged the edges low over Olivia's ears. She looped the long scarf carefully around the back of the brunette's neck and knotted it loosely on her chest. Olivia moaned breathily and shifted in her sleep. Reflexively, her fingers closed over the ends of the scarf and Alex smiled sadly, her lips trembling behind the sterile mask.

Quietly, she stood and took a seat. She pulled a magazine from her stack. She had already read it but she didn't care. She needed anything to help her sit still, anything to keep her hands busy and away from Olivia's body. More than anything, she wanted to hold Olivia like she used to. But she wouldn't give in until Olivia asked. It was her choice.


	16. Chapter 16

Alex systematically read and re-read all of her magazines, grinding her teeth against her overwhelming feelings of uselessness and impotent anger. She forced her eyes to read each line and inspect each picture. It was her only distraction from the monotonous beeping of the machines and the exhausting task of worrying about Olivia's frowning and squirming in her sleep. Despite her illness and the exhaustion and the drugs pumped into her veins, Olivia was still plagued with nightmares.

Much of the time, Olivia rested quietly, her expression serene and her hands still. But often, her peaceful rest was interrupted. Deep lines would appear between her eyebrows and her uncoordinated fingers would twist jerkily around the edges of the scarf. Alex would always rise from her seat and move to stand at the side of the bed, leaning down and speaking gently to her sleeping girlfriend. Sometimes Olivia's frown would relax back into restful sleep. But other times, her frown would deepen. Moans and gasps escaped the brunette's lips and she would turn her head restlessly as the feverish color rose in her cheeks.

Eventually, though, her body would still and her drawn expression would melt away as Alex continued to speak soothingly to her. At these times, Alex would sink back into her chair and try to relax and read her uninteresting magazines. It was the best she could do.

A particularly long moan disturbed her from her wandering thoughts and distracted concentration. She tossed the magazine aside and rose. Olivia's lips were parted and the long, soft moans continued with each shuddering exhale. The sound was heartrending, full of nothing but relentless pain and exhaustion. Maintaining her tight emotional control, Alex leaned over her restless girlfriend. "Olivia, you're okay. It's okay. Just go back to sleep, sweetie." She stopped short when her worried gaze was met by brown eyes.

Olivia's body stilled but her eyes were active, searching Alex's face with gradually building intensity from behind fever-swollen lids. Alex quickly resumed her endless litany of reassuring nothings and tried to imbue her voice with every scrap of calm and gentleness she had within her. Olivia untangled one hand from the scarf and dragged it across the mattress, reaching out for the blonde. The effort was obviously a strain on the weakened brunette and her eyes closed briefly with tiredness. Alex jumped to stop her, to calm her movements. She touched Olivia's fingers with her own.

Olivia dragged her eyelids back up. "Alex," she rasped breathlessly. "I told you to run." She paused, again letting her heavy lids fall closed. Her grip curled feebly around the very ends of Alex's long fingers. Alex struggled not to tighten her grip or make any other movement to startle the obviously frightened, stressed woman.

"Olivia, I'm safe. You're safe. They can't hurt you any …" She trailed off as Olivia heaved her gaze upward.

"Then why …" Olivia stopped to catch her breath as a cough rattled deep in her chest. Alex froze, her thoughts flying, and then brought her fingers up to touch the surgical mask with a dawn of realization.

"Darling, you're sick. I have to wear this so you won't get sicker. We're in the hospital. Close your eyes, Liv, please." Olivia held her gaze for just a moment longer before she shivered and closed her eyes. Her already feather-light grasp on Alex's fingers loosened and her head eased slowly sideways until her hot cheek rested on the cool pillowcase. Alex silently thanked god for the drugs and, as Olivia shivered again, moved to adjust the layered blankets with her free hand. She wanted her girlfriend warm and comfortable but there were few things in this world that could force her to release Olivia's fingers. The brunette had moved to touch her on her own and there was no way Alex was going to turn down the chance to try and comfort Olivia physically. Even if she could only touch the tips of her fingers, or even less, Alex would do her best.

With slow, quiet motions, she drew her customary stool close and took her seat. She placed her forearm on the mattress and bent to cushion her cheek on it, her head turned to keep a watchful eye on the sleeping woman. Flashes of color around Olivia's wrist caught her eye and she focused on the plastic bracelets, glad of anything to anchor her.

There was the customary white bracelet bearing Olivia's identity, blood type and emergency contact information. A yellow one just above the first had "Fall Risk" printed in bold, black letters. Alex frowned wryly. She guessed that, if Olivia did somehow manage to rise from the bed, she probably would fall. A third was bright red. "Allergy: codeine," it read. It was appropriate. Alex let her cares ease a little as she recalled discovering Olivia's codeine intolerance.

The detective had been escorted home by her sheepishly grinning partner. Apparently, a suspect tripping on PCP had destroyed a large portion of the squad room and had taken Olivia out in the process. The brunette glared at Elliot with her one good eye as he related to Alex exactly how Olivia had flown back into her desk and managed to catch the bastard right in the jewels with the heel of her boot. His brief gasp of shock and pain had given the other officers a much needed opportunity to tackle and cuff him. In their eyes, Olivia was now a legend and she had the blackened eye and broken nose to prove it.

It was only hours later as Olivia ran ginger fingers over her swollen nose and Alex continued to pester her that the brunette had agreed to take one of the prescribed pain pills. They had settled down – Alex eagerly and Olivia sullenly – to watch a movie until the meds kicked in and Olivia felt like eating. A few minutes into the opening credits, Olivia had shoved Alex's legs from her lap and hauled herself to her feet. She took a single step and nearly fell, banging her shin on the coffee table and swearing with slurred words. Alex had leapt up and reached to help but Olivia swatted her hands away with irritation.

She continued to walk unsteadily towards the bathroom, her hands held wonderingly out. As she neared the narrow doorway, she took a sidestep and stepped face first into the wall. Again she slurred a curse and scrabbled at the doorjamb for balance. By this time, Alex was at her side, holding her arm firmly and urging her to come back and lie down. Olivia had looked at her for a moment, her eyes unfocused, before doubling over and vomiting on Alex's slippers.

Head still resting on her forearm, Alex had to use her hand to brush away a few tears of laughter as she recalled that eventful evening. She had never allowed the brunette to live that one down and, as revenge, Olivia insisted on purchasing slippers for Alex on each and every gift-giving holiday. By the time she had had to leave, Alex had amassed an absurdly large collection. One for every outfit, she had teased. She wondered what had happened to them since she left. Still laughing, she returned her attention to her sleeping girlfriend.

One final bracelet was snapped around Olivia's wrist and Alex had to raise her head a little to read it. The black lettering, printed on bright blue plastic, read, "MRSA – VANCOMYCIN." She sighed sadly. Alex also understood what this indicated. It was another reminder of the infection, of the further suffering Olivia had to endure before she would finally be allowed to heal. The nurse's had patiently explained it to her. The bracelet was necessary because of the potential side effects of the drug and the requirement for frequent sampling of Olivia's blood. The reality of it all suddenly crashed down on the blonde and she sagged wearily against the mattress.

Closing her eyes, she tried to let the constant worries and stresses slip away for a moment. She focused intently on the warmth of Olivia's fingers clasped in her own. It felt nice. Alex laughed tiredly and chastised herself gently. It was more than nice. It was a miracle.


	17. Chapter 17

Days and long, uneasy nights passed before Alex's patience was finally rewarded with Olivia's open eyes and calm expression. Until then, when Olivia had woken, she had been only semiconscious and driven to struggle out of panic and disorientation. But now, Alex's heart was lifted; Olivia's gaze was clear and lucid and there was no fright in the lines of her face, only exhaustion. A spontaneous smile brightening her expression, Alex moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, Olivia. How are you feeling?"

Olivia moved to speak but managed only a gravelly croak. She coughed weakly and tried again, speaking in a harsh whisper. "What happened?"

"You have a staph infection, darling. They put you on antibiotics. You've been out for a couple of days." Olivia only sighed while Alex spoke. Alex watched her lovingly. Olivia was deathly pale and heavy black rings circled her eyes. Her cheeks were hollow and her lips were deeply cracked. Alex reached for the cup of melting ice chips. The nurses had brought fresh ice every time they stopped to check Olivia's vitals and Alex was grateful. Using her thumb and forefinger like forceps, Alex reached into the cup and withdrew a large ice chip. She held it up for Olivia to see.

"For your lips," she said gently. "May I?" It was something she had done many times while Olivia had slept but, now that she was awake, Alex was unwilling to proceed without the brunette's permission. But her heart was lifted even further when Olivia nodded slowly.

Moving deliberately, Alex gently touched the ice to Olivia's lips. The brunette flinched violently at the contact and Alex immediately jerked her hand away and froze. Olivia's eyes were squeezed shut and, for a painful moment, Alex held her breath. If her actions had triggered a flashback … Alex shoved the thought from her mind. She would cross that bridge when she came to it. Instead, she bit her lip and waited for Olivia to respond.

Finally, Olivia opened her eyes and met Alex's gaze. Slowly, her shoulders relaxed and her hands, clenched into white-knuckled fists, uncurled. Once Olivia was again calm, Alex spoke.

"I'm sorry, Liv, I didn't mean to…" Olivia cleared her throat feebly and shook her head.

"No, it's…" She dabbed at her roughened lips with the tip of her tongue but it did little good. "Please. It's okay." She kept her eyes locked on Alex's face and her expression was tinted with longing. Alex took a breath and eyed her girlfriend, searching for any sign of reluctance. She was reassured. Olivia's expression was one of only tired determination. She dropped the dripping remains of the ice chip back into the cup and selected a fresh one. Again she lifted her hand and touched Olivia's lips.

This time, Olivia shuddered but didn't pull away. She blinked but her eyes remained fixed on Alex's. The blonde smiled gently and moved the ice along Olivia's bottom lip, leaving a trail of cool, soothing wetness. At first, lines at the corners of Olivia's eyes gave away her nerves but, as Alex hummed comfortingly and eased the ice along the cracked and broken skin, Olivia relaxed heavily back against the pillow and let her eyes fall closed. She sighed shallowly.

Olivia slowly parted her lips a little further and Alex, understanding the gesture, carefully pushed the last of the ice chip onto Olivia's tongue. Withdrawing her fingers, Alex watched, her own emotions comforted, as her girlfriend sucked on the ice. Olivia seemed soothed, at least a little, and Alex was glad. After so many days and weeks of pain, Olivia deserved some comfort. Alex felt tears of unfamiliar joy prick at her eyes and, instead of fighting them, she let them well up and fall. Again, Olivia parted her lips and Alex picked up another chip of ice. Blinking furiously to clear her tear-clouded vision, Alex fed her darling girlfriend more ice. As her tears fell more and more rapidly, Alex reveled in Olivia's slow swallowing and only wished there was more she could do to help.

They continued in this fashion for a long time, Olivia wordlessly asking for more ice and Alex feeding her slowly, sobbing silently as she lovingly raised her hand to her girlfriend's lips. Finally, Olivia turned her head a fraction away and opened her eyes. Alex quickly set the cup aside and dashed the back of her hand across her eyes, hoping to hide her tears from her girlfriend. Olivia had enough to deal with without worrying about Alex.

Frowning a little, Olivia moved to rest her hand on the mattress, palm up and close to Alex.

"Alex," she whispered, the sound faint and raspy. "Why are you crying?"

The question brought a chuckle to Alex's throat and she choked a little on her mixed laughter and quiet sobs. Hesitantly, Alex lowered her hand so that her fingers rested lightly in Olivia's palm and another sob twisted from her chest as Olivia closed her hand around her fingers. For a moment, she thought she would dissolve into her tears. But soon, with deep, calming breaths, she regained a measure of her customary serenity. The pressure of Olivia's grasp was weak but determined, steadying. Alex felt anchored by Olivia's love.

Remembering her girlfriend's question, Alex smiled faintly and gathered herself. "Oh Liv," she breathed heavily. "I'm just … I'm so happy you're awake. I was so scared. I don't know what I would do if I lost you. I don't think I can ever tell you enough how much you mean to me. I …" She paused as fresh tears wet her cheeks and she wiped them carelessly away. "Liv, I thought about you every day while I was away. I prayed and prayed to be able to come back to you. And when I finally did, I was afraid that you … I just love you so much."

She wiped her tears away and looked down at Olivia. The brunette looked exhausted but her expression was full of aching tenderness. Her dark eyes were sunken and bright with fever, but Alex couldn't remember a more beautiful sight. Olivia was sick but she was still alive and love was agonizingly evident in her eyes.

Her shoulders shaking, Alex continued to cry silently though her sobs had subsided for the moment. She remained as still as possible, focusing on the sensation of Olivia's hand holding her own and on the sight of the brunette's sweet expression. She wished that this moment would last forever. Her heart was full and she hardly dared even to breathe. But she gasped when the grip on her hand tightened.

Olivia tugged at her hand, pulling it across the blankets with obvious effort. Alex followed her lead and soon she was leaning low over the bed, her hand resting palm down on Olivia's chest. Olivia pressed her own hand atop Alex's, sandwiching the blonde's palm between her fingers and the soft ends of her scarf. For a moment, she closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. Even small movements were a strain and she hated that she had to pause to recover; she wanted to hold Alex's hand, not struggle for breath like an invalid. She let her cheek loll against the pillow, lacking the strength even to hold her head up. It was only through sheer force of will that she forced her eyes back open and a weak smile pulled at the corners of her mouth when she was rewarded with Alex's wide, blue eyes.

"Don't cry," she whispered to Alex. "I won't leave you alone. I love you too much."


	18. Chapter 18

Elliot rested his forehead in his palm and tried to focus on the DD-5's he was supposed to be filling out but it was a continuous struggle. It was the irritatingly continuous flashing of the end of a waggling pen catching the light that distracted him. Not so subtly, Elliot tilted his head and raised his gaze to glower under thick eyebrows at the kid sitting at Olivia's desk, twiddling his pen between his fingers. He stared for a few seconds, hoping that his temporary partner would take a hint but it was to no avail. Subtlety was lost on this rookie. Danny may have been the best the captain could come up with on such short demand but he was certainly no replacement for Liv. Keeping his irritated gaze fixed on the offending pen, Elliot cleared his throat pointedly. Danny jumped a little and, quickly realizing the source of his partner's annoyance, let his hand fall back to the desk. "Um, sorry," he grunted, turning away from the glaring detective and back to his paperwork.

Sighing, Elliot roughly rubbed at his eyes with blunt fingers and scribbled another answer onto the form. All he had to do was finish this last page and he was free for the night. He was looking forward to roast chicken and potatoes, Kathy's Wednesday night dinner, and a game of Chutes and Ladders with the twins. Just a few more lines and … His thoughts were interrupted by the blaring ring of his phone. He groaned inwardly; a call this late in the evening could only mean that he and Danny would be called out to a scene. Reluctantly, his strong sense of duty forcing his hand, Elliot hefted the phone's receiver to his ear. "Stabler."

His gruff greeting was met with a man's voice. It sounded familiar but Elliot struggled to place it. The man sounded glad, determined and satisfied. "Detective, I have good news," he drawled.

Elliot growled. If this was one of Munch's pranks then he would string that skinny Jew up by his lapels in the morning. "Who is this?"

"Detective, it's Hammond." As soon as the name rang in his ear, Elliot shot out of his rickety desk chair and landed stiffly on his feet. If Hammond was calling, it could mean only one thing. His suddenly frenzied thoughts flew to Alex. He had to make sure she was safe. And Olivia. Olivia was with Alex. He had to get to them. Then, one arm already stuffed into the arm of his jacket, he froze and let Hammond's words sink through his panic-numbed mind. No, it couldn't be true. Velez couldn't be dead.

But, according to Hammond's tinny voice, he was dead, shot three times in the chest when he tried to run from a DEA sting in Brooklyn. Anticipating Elliot's question before the detective even managed to utter a single syllable, Hammond assured him; he had personally identified the body himself. It was Velez and he was certainly dead. They both simply breathed for a long moment, Elliot reeling his emotions back in and Hammond giving him the opportunity. Eventually, guessing that the detective was reasonably calm, Hammond continued.

"Stabler, I've been trying to reach Ms. Cabot but her cell must be off. I'm being buried by the brass about Velez right now. I need you to find her and tell her she's back. I'll send the paperwork to her tomorrow, as soon as I can get to it. Can you handle that, Detective?"

The panic rushed out of his body and Elliot sank back onto his chair on suddenly numb legs. "Yeah," he breathed. It was all he could manage but Hammond sounded satisfied and brusquely hung up. Elliot let the receiver fall from his fingers to rest in the cradle and then rested both of his hands palm down on the cool metal surface of his desk. It was steady, comfortingly so, and Elliot needed something to steady himself. He had just received the call that he and Olivia had waited on for two long years. Thoughts of Olivia fighting to let go of Alex's hand as the agents hustled the blonde into a black SUV sprang unbidden into his mind's eye. Olivia should have gotten this call, not him. He had to go tell her, tell both of them. Feeling rushing back into his legs, Elliot once again stood and finished pulling on his jacket. Stuffing his keys into his pocket, he became aware of the unsettling sensation of eyes upon him. Looking up, he saw Danny's uncertain expression and his heart gentled for a moment. He might be irritating but he was just a kid. "Hey, Danny," he said clearly and sympathetically. "I have to go. See you tomorrow."

Olivia shivered weakly and tried to huddle deeper into her pillows and blankets, seeking warmth she couldn't seem to find. Without intending to, she let a tremulous moan escape her dry lips as her fingers scrabbled underneath the warm folds of her scarf. She was so cold, colder than she could remember ever feeling. She just wanted to feel warm again. She moaned again, very softly. Somehow, the sound helped her focus on something other than the pain and the deep cold. It regulated her breathing: sound out, air in, sound out, air in. She shuddered.

The sound of running water came from behind the bathroom door in the corner of the room before the door opened and Alex emerged, her hands freshly scrubbed and her pale blue mask still firmly in place. Olivia fixed her half-open eyes on the tall blonde, begging her wordlessly to come back to her side. If anyone could help her forget the cold, it would be Alex. Watching Alex gratefully, Olivia was glad when she settled on her stool at the edge of the bed and leaned carefully close.

"Liv, tell me what's wrong," she murmured gently.

Olivia moaned again and Alex was disturbed to hear the brunette's teeth chatter. "I'm so cold," she ground out feebly. Slowly, Alex raised her hand and looked tenderly at her suffering girlfriend.

"May I?" she asked quietly, gesturing to Olivia's forehead. Olivia managed a small nod and Alex kept her movements very slow, reaching until her palm rested on the brunette's forehead. Despite her best efforts to maintain a calm façade, Alex's expression melted into one of worry and sorrow. "Oh, sweetheart. You're burning up. Let me get a nurse." Carefully, she leaned across her girlfriend and pressed the button to call a nurse before returning to her seat and pulling her hand away.

Blessedly soon, Anita appeared at her side and leaned protectively over the prone woman. "Hi Olivia," she crooned gently. "You rang." Olivia only moaned again and let her eyes drift closed but Alex laid a hand on the nurse's arm.

"She says she's cold but I felt her forehead and she's burning up." Anita nodded, businesslike, and reassured the worried blonde.

"You did the right thing, calling me. I'll up her doses of fever-reducers and I'll bring some warmed blankets. Just wait here." She made sure to pause and look at Alex, smiling to help soothe the worried blonde, before leaving the room. Alex turned back to Olivia and smiled.

"Just a little longer, sweetie, and you'll feel better." Olivia made no overt response to Alex's words. Instead she resumed her steady pattern of soft moans and deep inhalations. The sound tugged at Alex's heart but she refrained from any action to stop it. Moaning seemed to calm Olivia and Alex was unwilling to interrupt her.

Tucking and re-tucking the edges of the pre-warmed blankets around Olivia's legs and shoulders, Alex let herself drift in her memories, searching for the perfect story to tell her girlfriend. Between shivers, Olivia had asked Alex to give her something warm to think about and Alex aimed to please. Finally, lighting upon just the right story, Alex let herself be satisfied with the state of Olivia's blankets and she settled onto her customary seat.

"Alright, Liv, shut your eyes and try to think warm thoughts. About a year ago, I had had it with Wisconsin. It was just so … flat. I needed to get away. I knew Hammond would never go for it, but I decided to take a little vacation. Out of state, of course. I decided to treat myself and I booked a week in a resort in Hawaii, on Kauai, right on the beach. It was July." For a moment, she paused as a chuckle interrupted her speech and she looked lovingly down at her still girlfriend.

"You would have approved, Olivia. I basically only packed bikinis. It was great. The resort had a private stretch of beach and, since it was so hot, it was nearly empty. Every morning, I just took my book and my sun block and one of those hats that you hate. You know, the ones with the really wide brims. The sun was so hot, Liv. When I relaxed on the lounge chair, the heat was so intense it felt like an actual physical touch. And with the humidity, it was almost oppressive. But I liked it. It gave me an excuse to just be still, perfectly still. I wished you were there so that I wouldn't have even had to move to put on more sun block. It would have been more fun. The hotel had an entire staff whose whole job was to refill my glass of water. They offered to do my back, but I never let them. They just wanted tips." She laughed again and snuck a peak at Olivia. She was gratified to see that Olivia's shivers had stilled and the soft moans had died down to gentle whimpers as she breathed.

Relaxing and parting her lips to continue her story, Alex was suddenly distracted by slightly raised voices in the hall just outside the open door. Damn, she cursed to herself. Olivia was just drifting off to sleep and she desperately needed the rest. Restraining her urge to rush out and rip the offenders a new one, Alex rose carefully with the knowledge that sudden movement would just as likely wake her dozing girlfriend.

But, as soon as she leaned around the doorjamb, her angry expression changed in an instant to one of surprise. "Elliot," she gasped.

"Yeah, Alex. I have to talk to you but your nurse won't let me in."

Alex quickly turned her attention to the nurse, waving her away and pulling the mask from her face. "Elliot, it's late. What are you doing here?"

"Alex," he breathed, a smile rapidly brightening his somber face. "Alex, Hammond called. No, no…" He interrupted himself quickly as the blonde's face fell and she scrabbled at the hall wall for support. He grasped her too thin shoulders with both hands and squeezed, trying to express his joy physically. "Alex, listen to me. Velez is dead."


	19. Chapter 19

Alex turned her paper cup of coffee around and around in her hands as she sat waiting in the cafeteria. Though nearly twenty-four hours had passed since Elliot had told her of her freedom, Alex could still hardly wrap her mind around it. She had waited and prayed for this day for two years but, now that it was here, Alex couldn't help but doubt. It felt unreal that, after so long, she had been reunited with her lover and relieved of the constant fear Velez had inspired. And now she was waiting for her parents. She turned her trembling thoughts to the past day.

Once Elliot had released his tight hold on her – his support the only thing keeping her knees from buckling completely – Alex had whirled and rushed to Olivia's side. Olivia still dozed fitfully and, though Alex hated to wake her, Alex brushed her fingertips over her cheekbone until her eyes fluttered open. As Olivia's bleary, brown eyes focused, Alex opened her mouth to speak but her voice failed her. Instead, tears welled in her eyes and she smiled with trembling lips.

Only Olivia's sudden, confused frown restored her voice and Alex spoke in a rush of words. "Oh, Liv," she gushed, her tone shaky with emotion. "Velez is dead. I'm free, baby." Suddenly, she choked up again and, without a second thought, she molded her hands around Olivia's cheeks. She kissed Olivia, passionately and with the hurry of a starving woman handed an apple. For once, Olivia didn't flinch away or cry in fright. Maybe it was the shock or the drugs or maybe it was her deep desire to be touched by this woman she trusted, but Olivia suddenly felt free of her unrelenting fear. She tilted her head just a fraction back and parted her lips. But, as Alex closed her eyes, a sudden beeping startled her and she flung herself backwards, remembering in a flash the events of the past days.

Alex pressed her white-knuckled fist to her lips as her gaze darted to the monitors and machines at the head of the bed. It was Olivia's heart monitor that beeped, signaling that her heart rate had spiked, but, as Olivia's chest rose and fell, the noise subsided. Alex laughed with an edge of hysteria as she became aware of her own pounding heart. It was all happening so fast. First she was rushed to Olivia's bedside and threatened with the possibility that her girlfriend might die before they even had the time to speak. Then the sudden death of her old enemy that, in a second, ended her life as Emily and thrust her joyfully back into a nearly unfamiliar existence. And now she had kissed Olivia as if it was the first time. It was too much for her. She collapsed into a chair.

For the first time since her blurted speech, Alex became aware of eyes upon her and she lifted her head from her palm. Olivia watched her carefully, her expression one of mixed shock and quiet happiness. Elliot still stood in the doorway, uneasy about Olivia's condition but hoping that his joy could be included in Alex's. Suddenly, Elliot was jostled aside and Sarah, a tall nurse, slipped into the room. Instantly, she picked up on the silent, stunned atmosphere and she glanced questioningly from face to face. Getting no immediate response, she carried on with her intended duties.

"Ms. Benson, your heart monitor recorded a rapid rhythm a minute ago and I just wanted to check on you. Are you having any trouble breathing?" Olivia shook her head slightly and her eyes closed heavily. Between the drugs in her system and Alex's burst of excitement, Olivia felt her body begin to succumb to familiar exhaustion. She briefly hoped that she had understood Alex correctly, but she was quick to chalk it up to a hallucination or a dream. She only dimly felt Sarah's stethoscope cold against her skin before she slipped into unconsciousness.

It was only after Olivia had fallen back asleep that Alex managed to get hold of herself and form a complete thought. "It was my fault, Sarah," she said breathily. "I upset her." Sarah only nodded in acknowledgement, continuing to complete her check of her patient's vital signs before addressing the visitors.

She turned to face Alex. "I see, Ms. Cabot. I think it might be best if you and … your friend left Ms. Benson alone for a little while, so she can get some sleep. And when you come back, don't forget to wear the mask. It's very important." As she spoke, Sarah gestured to the forgotten paper mask hanging loosely around the blonde's neck. Alex started and touched it with her fingertips. Numbly, she nodded and followed the nurse out into the hall where Elliot waited.

Taking a deep breath, she held out her hand expectantly as they turned to walk to the waiting room. As much as Alex was uncomfortable with leaving Olivia's side, there was one thing she simply had to do. Thankfully, Elliot understood her gesture and, digging in his pocket, lifted his cell phone and dropped it into Alex's waiting palm. Alex flipped it open and dialed the long unused number, pressing it to her ear with a shaky grasp as it rang. Finally, she received an answer.

"Mom?" she whispered, her voice wavering dramatically. "It's me, Alex."

Kathleen Cabot rushed through Mercy General's doors and whipped to the right to follow the signs indicating the cafeteria, barely aware of whether her husband followed or not. She rubbed absently at her eyes which she knew were red-rimmed from tears and sleeplessness but she hardly cared. As soon as she and Bill had hung up the phone the night before, they hadn't spared a second even to ask why Alex had insisted they meet in a hospital cafeteria. So, with bags hastily stuffed with clothes and toiletries, they had driven all night from their retirement home near Bangor, Maine, to join their daughter in New York. The daughter they thought had been murdered over two years ago.

The two frantic parents burst into the cafeteria and stopped dead in their tracks. The phone call hadn't been a dream. Before them, a few tables away, slowly setting a cup down and rising to her feet, was their daughter. All thought of propriety was forgotten as Kathleen flung herself forward, nearly knocking over a teenager tottering on crutches in her blind rush to touch her daughter. Before Alex could even manage a syllable, her mother had wrapped her in a crushing embrace and her father followed suit after pausing to steady the unfortunate boy. They stayed, still and relieved, in their group hug for a long time. Alex was the one to break it up with gentle movements.

"Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice nearly lost in her effort to hold back her tears. Stiffly, she sat back in the hard plastic chair and wrapped a hand around her lukewarm coffee cup while her mother grasped her other hand tightly. Her parents too took seats and Alex nodded at the two extra cups on the table. "I, uh, got you some coffee." Her father gratefully took one of the cups and brought it to his lips but her mother ignored Alex's gesture. Instead, she clutched desperately at Alex's hand and brought her fingers up to touch Alex's cheek.

"Alexandra," she breathed, her blue eyes filled with uncertainty and a mother's love. "We thought you were dead. We … we went to your funeral."

Alex sighed sadly and bit her lip, returning her mother's heartfelt grasp. "I know, Mom. I'll explain it all."

Only after Alex had told her long story twice did her father finally bring up the topic of their strange meeting location. "Alex," he asked. "You seem fine. Why couldn't you have come up to Maine? Why meet us in a hospital cafeteria?"

Though Alex had maintained her calm demeanor throughout their conversation to this point, the mention of their current situation brought irrepressible images of her girlfriend into the forefront of her mind and tears stung at her eyes. "I … I couldn't tell you, the FBI wouldn't let me. I came back a few weeks ago. It's Olivia, she was … hurt. Very badly. They thought that she might not make it and…" Unable to control herself any longer, Alex collapsed into her mother's arms and sobbed.

Kathleen held her daughter close, rubbing her back soothingly in the way all mothers instinctually know how to do. Startled and heartbroken by his daughter's breakdown, Bill moved his chair closer and laid his heavy hand on Alex's head. They comforted her as best they could until Alex, still hiccupping and wiping away her tears, straightened.

Kathleen tried to smile bravely. "She's okay, isn't she, Alexandra?" When Alex nodded, Kathleen continued to speak. "Then don't cry, honey. We're here for you. For both of you. Can we visit?" Squeezing her eyes closed, Alex shook her head regretfully.

"No, Mom. She's too sick. The doctor's say she might not be able to fight off any new infection. But I'll tell her that you came and that you wanted to visit." Alex hesitated and then wrapped her arms around her parents' shoulders, smiling through her drying tears. "I love you, Mom and Dad. I never thought I'd see you again."

Fingering the scrap of paper in her pocket, Alex walked quickly down the ICU hallway. She wished she could spend the night with her parents but, with Olivia's tenuous condition, Alex felt she couldn't risk it. Instead, they had scrawled the name of the hotel where they would stay onto a paper napkin and promised to visit first thing in the morning for more tepid, bitter coffee. Just the paper in her pocket and the presence of her parents in the city served to steady Alex's determination and allow her to focus exclusively on her sick girlfriend. She finished washing her hands and, adjusting the paper mask, rounded the corner into Olivia's room.

For a moment, Alex gaped and froze in place. There were nurses and a doctor crowded around the hospital bed and Olivia … Olivia was sitting up, her legs hanging over the edge of the mattress and her posture supported by a nurse's arm around her shoulders. In the space of one breath that seemed to last much longer, Alex took in every aspect of the scene before her.

A white-coated doctor hovered behind Olivia, frowning and touching the brunette's back which was bared, the flimsy gown pushed to her sides. A nurse stood at Olivia's side, grasping her shoulders firmly to hold her in place while a second nurse picked up swabs and iodine solution from a wheeled tray. Alex spared a glance at the tray and felt her throat tighten. It was covered in syringes and needles and piles of gauze bandages. But, most heartrending of all was the sight of Olivia herself. She was hunched weakly in the nurse's grasp, her eyes tightly closed but her lips slack. Alex recognized the familiar sound of her girlfriend's moans, the kind she knew Olivia used to steady herself when the pain and fear overwhelmed her. The sounds she made were almost pitiful, high and tremulous when she exhaled and raspy when she inhaled. It was Olivia's painful breath that finally snapped Alex from her frozen state. She rushed forward on stiff legs and waved the doctor furiously away from her girlfriend.

"Stop this. What are you doing?" she demanded harshly. "Why wasn't I informed?" She fixed each of the masked strangers in her icy glare in turn until the doctor held up his hands in frustration.

Sarah touched Alex's arm but recoiled when the blonde whipped around angrily to face her. "Ms. Cabot, we thought it would be better…"

Alex snapped, "You were wrong. Now tell me what's going on."

The doctor left his position and approached the tall, angry woman. "Calm down, Ms. Cabot, and let me speak to you in the hall." Once they had left the crowded room, he continued. "Ms. Benson's infection isn't responding to the antibiotics as quickly as we had hoped. We need to drain the abscesses that have formed in the friction wounds and we need to take a sample of her spinal fluid to check that the infection hasn't spread to her nervous system." He paused, thoughtfully taking in Alex's determined, steely eyes and considering her history in his patient's recovery. "I'll tell you what. Why don't you stay with Ms. Benson during the procedure. It will be quite painful for her, I warn you, but you've proven to be a calming influence on her in the past and we need for her to stay quite still. Can you stay calm?" Alex nodded. "Good," the doctor responded. "Sarah will tell you what to do."

Numbly, Alex allowed Sarah to guide her back into the hospital room, gesturing for her to sit on the bed at Olivia's side before she resumed her duties. Olivia opened her eyes as she became aware of Alex's presence but, as she did so, a nurse lifted an enormous needle from the tray and the light glinting off the steel caught the brunette's eyes. She shuddered violently and choked on her feeble breath, struggling to get away from her new, would-be torturers. Her heart breaking, Alex hushed her girlfriend with soothing tones and brought her hand up to Olivia's cheek. With gentle pressure, she turned Olivia's face to press it to the inside of her shoulder. She tucked her free arm around Olivia's waist and held her securely. She bent her head to simulate an intimate environment for the two of them.

"Liv," she said softly and with as much calm and love as she could muster. "I'm here with you. I won't let anything happen to you. If it hurts, just say my name and I'll make them stop immediately. Okay?" Olivia only moaned with more feeling into Alex's shoulder and Alex hoped that was a sign that she understood.

The doctor spoke to the two women with new gentleness. "We're ready to begin. You'll feel a little pinch, Ms. Benson, but you have to stay still. One, two, three." As soon as the doctor finished his countdown, Olivia soft moans cracked and became a choked cry of intense pain. She stiffened in Alex's arms but, to Alex's immense pride and relief, made no further movement. The tap seemed to take forever and, just when Alex thought she could stand Olivia's weak gasps and high pitched mewls of agony no longer, the doctor straightened and passed the filled syringe to a nurse.

"We've got the sample, Ms. Benson. You did great. Now we just need to drain the abscesses and we'll let you rest. Just a few more minutes." Alex caressed Olivia's cheek as Olivia collapsed exhaustedly against her and she tightened her arm around her girlfriend's thin body.

"Okay, Liv. Just a little longer. You're so strong, sweetie." As Alex spoke, Olivia's shivering became more violent and she let all of her weight rest in Alex's arms. She was tired, too tired, and in too much pain. She just wanted to go back to sleep, but they wouldn't let her. They never let her sleep. No longer able to comprehend the goings on around her, she gave up any thought of resistance and hoped it would all be over soon.

Alex pressed muffled kisses through her paper mask onto the crown of Olivia's head and tried to comfort her with her body and her words. They were all she had to give at the moment and she prayed they would be enough. The nurses worked quickly, rubbing first at Olivia's left wrist and then at both of her ankles with iodine-soaked swabs. The doctor stabbed a needle into each of the wounds, pulling yellowish liquid into the syringes before moving on and letting the nurses wrap fresh gauze over each of Olivia's limbs.

Alex turned Olivia's body more completely against her own when the doctor bent low and touched her neck with deft and professional fingers. He kept his eyes focused only on the infected wound, conscientiously avoiding inserting his presence into the women's quiet intimacy. He wanted to heal his patient, not expose her to more prying eyes. Once finished with the wound on Olivia's throat he hesitated for a moment. There was one final abscess on his patient's stomach, under her gown. He would have to ask the blonde to move. Clearing his throat pointedly, he got Alex's attention.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Cabot, but…" He gestured to Olivia's midsection and, to his relief, Alex understood. She whispered inaudibly to the limp woman in her arms and very slowly extracted herself from Olivia's weak scrabbling. As the doctor lifted her gown and probed the wound, Alex spoke constantly to Olivia and held her upright with strong arms. Finally the doctor straightened, allowed the nurse to bandage his patient and announced quietly that he was finished. He waited for Alex to settle Olivia back onto her pillows with the nurses' help before grasping her shoulder tightly. "Stay with her," he murmured. "You'll be more important in her recovery than just about anything we can do for her now." Alex let her gaze flicker away from her shivering, moaning lover for the barest moment, meeting the doctor's eyes and smiling wanly. Satisfied, he turned to leave the women alone.

Alex settled her attention back on Olivia. Once again, she eased the warm brown hat onto Olivia's head but she paused with the scarf in her hands. She was hesitant to wrap it around Olivia's neck because of the fresh bandages and puncture, but she wanted the brunette to have its comforting presence. Smiling in fresh realization, Alex lifted Olivia's hand and tucked the long coils of brown, knit cloth between her feeble grasp and her bony waist. Reflexively, Olivia closed her fingers around a fold in the scarf and Alex's heart was warmed. Quickly, she grabbed an extra blanket and tucked it securely around Olivia's prone body. She settled in for yet another long evening but a tiny voice interrupted her chaotic thoughts.

"Hold my hand." Olivia's voice was the tiniest of whispers, barely audible and with a long pause for breath between each word. But, Alex hardly cared about her tinny, feeble voice. It was the meaning that made her want to sob in joy. She wrapped Olivia's limp fingers in both of her own slender hands and finally let her tense expression relax into one of happiness and emotional exhaustion. She tried to focus exclusively on the good things about this day. She had seen her parents. They were here in New York. Velez was dead and she was free to live out in the open. And, best of all, she was with Olivia. She had kissed her senseless and now she held her hand in her own. Life was good and she only hoped it would continue to get better.


	20. Chapter 20

Despite the doctors' constant attention and the nurse's best efforts, Olivia only became weaker. They upped her doses of antibiotics and fever reducers as much as they could but nothing seemed to help. A nursing student was assigned to stay at Olivia's bedside without break, monitoring her vitals and alerting Anita or Sarah at the slightest change. Alex felt like she was being frozen slowly, inch by agonizing inch. She spent her days shifting from seat to seat in the tiny room and her nights with her cheek resting on the edge of Olivia's mattress, keeping close and as alert as possible in case her suffering girlfriend called for her. But she never did.

Instead, Olivia curled in on herself, resting heavily on her pillows. She opened her eyes only rarely. Each time, Alex leaned close, her hopes rising. But, each time, she was met by Olivia's cloudy, unseeing gaze. Alex carefully tried to keep herself calm in the face of her slowly receding lover but sometimes it became too much. She crouched anxiously over Olivia and her tears fell to wet her paper mask as she studied her girlfriend's face. The only word Alex could think of to describe her formerly vigorous lover was ill. Everything about Olivia - her posture, her fever-swollen eyes and drastically hollowed cheeks, her papery skin - screamed that she was a very sick woman. Seeing Olivia so feeble broke Alex's heart all over again.

She took her only comfort from the slow motion and soft whisper of Olivia's breathing. As long as Alex could see these signs, it meant Olivia was still with her, that they still had a chance to be together again. Alex clung to that hope. Without it, Alex didn't know whether she would be able to hold on. She had already been torn away from Olivia once. She refused to let it happen again, certainly not this way. So Alex stayed by Olivia's side, talking or reading to her in low tones and cupping her girlfriend's cold fingers in her hands. She wanted to remind Olivia that she had someone to come back to, that she had to come back.

Alex only tore herself away from her girlfriend to call her parents. Despite her aching longing to see them, her time with Olivia was too precious. Alex didn't know and the doctors couldn't tell her whether any moment might be her last with Olivia. Alex knew that her parents could and would wait; she couldn't say the same about Olivia. If she slipped away while Alex was with her parents, the blonde would never be able to forgive herself. Her parents understood and promised to come when Olivia was stronger. Alex was grateful.

Olivia swam in and out of wild, confusing fever dreams. She saw Alex walking away. She saw her torturers come at her with torches and glinting knives. She heard Elliot laughing as she drowned over and over again in cold, rushing water. Dimly, she knew that nothing she saw was real, but the images were overwhelming. Even the scents seemed to prick at her nose. She searched for something to hang onto but found nothing. She felt like her body was disintegrating and scattering away from her regardless of how hard she struggled to keep herself whole. She longed for someone or something to hold her in one piece.

Alex rose at a nurse's beckoning to come to the hall. She stood half in and half out of the room, unwilling to leave Olivia alone but reluctant to wake her with their voices. The nurse patiently and gently explained that the results from Olivia's spinal tap were negative; the disease had not infected her nervous system. However, there was no other outward indication of why Olivia was not improving. The nurse tried to smile reassuringly as she encouraged Alex to talk to the sick woman. She had worked in the hospital for several years and had lost enough patients to have seen the difference between patients surrounded by family and those who suffered alone. Unable to do anything further medically to help Olivia, the nurse hoped Alex's loving attentions would keep her alive. Falling silent, she touched Alex's shoulder and ended their conversation.

Alex turned away from the door, fresh tears making her blink rapidly. The nurse's words, however carefully they had been put, made Alex's worst fears concrete. There was nothing more medicine could do for her girlfriend. All that was left was their loving bond. Alex hoped it would be strong enough. She returned to Olivia's side only to bite her lip in quickly hidden emotion. Olivia looked so small. She trembled and slowly moved her arms to hug herself tightly.

Reflexively, Alex reached out to comfort her but she paused. Olivia was still skittish about being touched. Though she had reached out or invited Alex's caresses more and more often, she still shied away often enough to make Alex wary of frightening her further. The nurse's words, however, rang loudly in her mind. Alex had been speaking to Olivia as much as she could but the brunette never seemed to hear her. At least, if she did hear the words, she didn't understand them or they did little to comfort her. Alex was desperate to penetrate Olivia's feverish confusion in any way she could. She was afraid that if she failed, Olivia would drift away from her. The soft rustling of sheets and blankets set Alex back into motion.

As Olivia's hands scrabbled against her own body in an effort to find warmth or comfort, Alex moved about the bed and tucked the blankets more tightly around her girlfriend's frail body. She wanted to make Olivia feel secure, to cocoon her in blankets and love. Cautiously, Alex removed her shoes and eased to lie on the bed behind her lover. Even before Alex took her in her arms, Olivia turned her head a fraction and parted her lips. Alex felt her heart lift in carefully reserved hope.

Olivia had never responded to her words but she seemed to welcome Alex's physical touch. Her heart seeming to overflow with tenderness, Alex wrapped her arms tightly around Olivia's body and drew her close. Olivia moaned quietly and curled into Alex's embrace. Her hands twitched and then her thin fingers closed around Alex's wrists. She squeezed, though her grasp was feeble, but made no effort to escape. Her shaking seemed to ease. Alex closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the brown hat on Olivia's head. She nuzzled Olivia gently and let herself melt into the contact. This was a moment she had dreamed about for years, the time when she would finally hold Olivia in her arms once again. Though she regretted the circumstances, Alex focused on the warmth of Olivia's body and her steady breathing. As long as Alex could feel her heartbeat, she could hope. And if she could hope, there was a chance her hopes would come to be. So long as that chance existed, Alex would do anything for Olivia.

Olivia drifted in and out of consciousness for two solid days. Each time she shuddered or opened her eyes, Alex leapt to respond to her lover. But, no matter how she coaxed Olivia to wake, the brunette only drifted back into fitful sleep and Alex felt her heart sink even lower. Rubbing her eyes in exhaustion, Alex struggled to keep her hope alive but it was a difficult fight. With every hour that passed without improvement, Alex became more certain that Olivia would never wake. Despite her efforts to push such thoughts away, Alex couldn't help but listen to the small voice in the back of her mind. With the constant threat that Olivia might drift away, Alex hoped only that Olivia knew how much she was loved. That thought was her only solace.

Though the room was lit even at night, the corners were still dim and that was where Alex sat when the pressure to run became almost too great for her to bear. Especially at night, when she looked out of the window at the snow falling amidst Manhattan's tall buildings and unceasing bustle, Alex felt like there was an invisible hand crushing her heart in her chest. She wanted out of the suffocating hospital room. She wanted to run through the snow until her breath made enormous clouds before her and her tears had frozen on her cheeks. She knew that she would never leave Olivia's side, but that knowledge did not ease the intensity of her instinct to flee. She was mired in an unbearable situation, one that she hadn't believed she would face until she and Olivia had already lived an entire lifetime together.

Years ago, looking forward to her life with her beloved detective, Alex had thought of how they would be as elderly women. Maybe they would be grandmothers, maybe they would be dumped into an old folk's home by their comically ungrateful children. In her darker moments, Alex imagined herself in Olivia's hospital room. She was old, very old, and Olivia was surrounded by their family as she slipped away. Olivia was supposed to pass away at a ripe old age with Alex, equally ripe, at her side. The image, especially now, brought tears to Alex's eyes. Here they were in that imaginary hospital room. But now there was no family, no white hair or wrinkles, no peaceful goodbye. Instead, Alex hovered and mourned their lost time while Olivia lingered at the edge of an unfairly early death. It was too much to bear.

Alex finally dragged herself from her restless sleep crouched at the edge of Olivia's bed and shuffled to her familiar corner perch. From that seat, she could see a sliver of the artificially light night sky through the gap in the curtains. She glanced at the yawning nursing student sitting across the room and reading a magazine and then turned her attention back to the view. Tonight there was no snow but Alex could see the low hanging clouds that seemed to be lit by the city's lights. She sighed and willed the tears that she knew were there to come. They did, slowly at first and then more rapidly. Soon she sobbed quietly into her hands and tried to steel herself for what she hoped would not come. A cough startled her from her misery.

Alex glanced up, her gaze darting to the nursing student in the corner. The white-scrubbed student, however, was already on her feet and moving towards Olivia's bed. Alex's heart leapt in blind hope. She threw herself out of her chair and rushed to her girlfriend. The sight awaiting her brought more tears to her eyes.

She bent low and smiled as widely as she could, feeling as though no grin could possibly express the overwhelming joy that seemed to fill her body. Olivia's eyes were open and clear and her gaze followed Alex's movements. Though Alex's instincts screamed for her to gather Olivia into her arms and squeeze, she resisted the powerful urge. Instead, she brushed the tears from her eyes and reached to take Olivia's hand in both of her own.

"Olivia, I…" Those few syllables were all Alex could manage before her tears resumed. She rubbed Olivia's hand and simply smiled, ignoring her tears and reveling in her girlfriend's steady gaze. It was more than she had hoped for and she wanted to remember every second. Only the brisk entrance of a nurse made Alex look away, though it was only for a moment. It was Sarah, followed closely by the young nursing student.

Sarah bent over her patient, mirroring Alex's posture, and she too smiled. "Hi, Ms. Benson. I'm so glad you're awake. I'm just going to take your vital signs and then I'll let you get some rest. Alright?" Olivia nodded fractionally and turned her gaze back to Alex. Weakly, she parted her lips, coughed feebly and spoke.

"Alex," she whispered though the sound was only just loud enough for Alex to hear. "I heard you crying." Alex hesitated, momentarily stunned by her girlfriend's words into silence and inaction. Her thoughts raced in shock. Had she heard Olivia correctly? Did Olivia, despite all of her own pain suffering, really say that it was Alex's tears that forced her awake? Alex felt choked with love and powerful sympathy as she smiled through her rapidly falling tears and kept her eyes carefully fixed on her darling's.

She tried to speak but, despite the fact that she was customarily well-spoken, could not seem to find the right words. Instead, she reached out with both hands and caressed Olivia's sunken cheeks. She tried to convey all of her love and longing through her expression before pulling her surgical mask away and bending down to press her lips to Olivia's warm skin. Alex closed her eyes as she brushed her lips against Olivia's forehead. She wanted to savor this moment and to protect it from Sarah's disapproving eyes which she could feel boring into her skull. Just at this moment, she couldn't care less about the hospital regulations. Olivia was alive and she was awake and Alex wanted to snatch up every memory she could possibly form while these few facts were true.

Only when Olivia again coughed softly did Alex straighten. Continuing to caress her quiet girlfriend, Alex turned her attention to the waiting nurse. Sensing that she was being acknowledged, Sarah cleared her throat and began.

"I have good news. It looks like Ms. Benson's fever has fallen a degree and I'd say that her waking up is a very good sign. I'll let the doctor know and he'll be in to see you soon. And if you need anything, I'll leave Missy here with you until the doctor has been by." With one backward glance, Sarah turned to murmur instructions to the student before leaving the three women alone in the dim, quiet room.

As soon as the door closed, Alex's stoic posture crumbled and she sank to sit on the stool at Olivia's bedside. Suddenly remembering her earlier exhaustion, Alex let her body collapse forward until she rested her cheek on the mattress. With her hand, she ever so gently coaxed Olivia to turn her head so that they were face to face. Clearly fighting her own tiredness, Olivia pulled the corners of her mouth back in a feeble semblance of her formerly intense smile. Despite her obvious weakness, Alex was sure that she could detect a tiny bit of the vigorous woman she loved in the creases of her eyes and the curve of her lips. That surety inspired a new surge of hope in Alex's heart and she clung to it as it slowly lifted her. She returned Olivia's smile and reached to adjust the edge of the brown wool cap. More than anything else, after all of the agony and humiliation her girlfriend had suffered, Alex wanted to fill Olivia's life with softness and tender love. She wanted even the smallest details to be just right.

When Alex moved to pull her hand away, the lightest of touches on her wrist stopped her. It was Olivia. Though the movement cost her dearly, Olivia wanted to touch Alex. So much of their time together had passed with Alex reaching out for her. Now she wanted her turn; she wanted to reach out to Alex. She curled her fingers into Alex's palm and slowly drew their clasped hands to rest on her collarbone. With the slightest movement, she pressed her lips to Alex's knuckles before letting her head fall back onto the pillow. It was all she could manage. She hoped that Alex would understand. Though her exhaustion began to overwhelm her fragile consciousness, she dragged her eyes back open to focus on Alex's face. The sorrow and gentleness she saw in her girlfriend's expression was simultaneously immensely soothing and too much for her to bear. She let her eyes slip shut once again and, though she tried to resist, she could feel her grasp on Alex's hand weaken. Her last thought, before blessedly natural sleep overcame her, was a wish that Alex would continue to let her hand weigh on her chest.


	21. Chapter 21

The snow was falling in heavy, wet flakes. Olivia could see it through the open curtains of her room's window and she watched longingly. It brought her comfort while Alex was away from her side and having coffee with her parents. Olivia was glad that Alex had her parents to support her; she would never begrudge the blonde the right to have a life outside the cramped, sterile hospital room. Instead, Olivia was jealous only of Alex's opportunity to do so and regretted only the absence of her girlfriend's distracting presence.

Since childhood, Olivia had thrived outdoors in the city. She reveled in the constant energy of the people in the streets and in the sights, sounds and smells that mixed to create Manhattan's unique environment. As soon as she understood her mother's distance and the reason for it, Olivia had turned to the city for her sense of belonging and she had, for the most part, found it. It was one of the many reasons she had become a cop. Now, however, she struggled to remember the last time she had taken a breath of what passed for fresh air in New York City. She couldn't.

Soon the ache in her heart became too much for her to stand. She had to move or scream or do something to prove to herself that she was still alive. Taking a deep breath, Olivia scrabbled at the blankets Alex had carefully tucked around her, tugging jerkily at them until she freed herself from their warm embrace. Chest heaving from even this first exertion, Olivia collapsed back onto the pillows and closed her eyes, taking a moment to reconsider her plan. If the simple process of throwing aside her blankets exhausted her this thoroughly, perhaps more action might be ill advised. Letting her breath hiss through her clenched teeth, Olivia shoved her nagging thoughts aside. These were the convictions of a victim, not a cop. Weakness be damned, she snarled to herself.

Struggling to keep her breathing steady, Olivia began the slow process of sitting up. Grasping at the mattress and bed frame for support, she levered herself upright and managed to drag her feet until her legs hung off the edge of the bed. Gradually, she leaned forward until her forehead nearly touched her knees. She could feel her own hot breath as she gasped for air and the coolness of the sweat already forming on her body. These signs of her weakness only served to further her determination. So much had already been taken from her. She wanted … no, needed … to do this, to complete this one simple task to which she had set herself.

Fumbling, Olivia tore away the electrodes that monitored her vital signs and ripped the IV needle from her wrist. Their presence made her feel tied down, forcibly restrained, and made her skin crawl. They reminded her of … She forced herself to forget, at least temporarily, the painful memories. She knew that they would only distract her. Instead, she glanced down at her dangling legs and at the heavy braces wrapped around her feet. She pressed her lips together tightly. This would be the worst part. Tightening her grip on the metal bed frame, she pushed herself off the edge of the mattress.

The pain was like an electric shock, bolting up her legs and through her entire body. For one terrifying second, Olivia was sure her knees would collapse and send her crashing to the floor and she desperately clung to her handhold. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her mouth opened wide in a nearly silent expression of anguish, her exhaustion turning her scream into the merest of strained rasps. After the initial agonizing stab, the pain receded just sufficiently for Olivia to regain a semblance of control. Instead of a shock, it faded to a constant throbbing radiating from the arches of her feet. Holding herself perfectly still, Olivia fought for deep breaths until she felt she could manage. With great effort, she forced her eyes open and focused on the window. Just a few steps, she ground out, speaking to herself. She could do it.

Reaching ahead of herself, first with one hand and then the other, Olivia shakily relinquished her grasp on the bed and began her progress forward. She took one step and again paused, gritting her teeth against the sharp agony and her own rapidly depleting strength. If only she could reach the window, she thought, then she could lean against it and take the pressure off of her feet. If she could do that, she might be alright. She took a second step and then a third, her harsh breath punctuated with gasps and sharp yelps of pain that clearly marked each shift of her weight. Just as tears of agony pricked at her already sore eyes, her fingertips met glass, cold and smooth. She pressed her palm against the window and felt her knees shake with relief and too intense exhaustion. But, before she took the final step needed for her to rest against the window sill, the sharp patter of crepe-soled shoes startled her.

Struggling to find the strength, she pulled her head up to look behind her but the movement compromised her already uncertain balance. As she felt herself fall, she managed only to glimpse the rushing bodies and distorted faces of people running toward her. Her heart seemed to skip a beat, as if momentarily frozen in icy terror, before she hit the floor. The jarring pain erased all conscious thought of her whereabouts and she was thrust into instinctual panic. She had tried to escape but failed. They were coming for her, coming to take her back and continue torturing her. Adrenaline fueling her movements, Olivia lashed out with her foot, making a solid connection with a stranger's ankle. Olivia was rewarded with only the briefest moment of hope before the pain searing up her leg shattered even that tiny thought. Blinding whiteness obscured her vision for a fraction of a second before hands seized her. It was all over.

When sharply issued commands failed, Alex threw herself among the busy nurses and bodily hauled one away from her girlfriend's bedside. Ignoring their terse words and shooing gestures, Alex bent protectively over Olivia and glanced fiercely around at the four men and women. "You three," she snarled, blue eyes flashing with overpowering fury. "Get out or I'll sue each and every one of you for abusing a patient." As she spoke, she fixed each nurse with a moment of her glare. "And you, I want you to stay and explain what is going on here." Finishing her snapped speech, Alex focused on the woman beneath her crouched body. Instantly, her expression softened dramatically and her chest tightened with worry and loving protectiveness.

Olivia was red-faced with panicked exertion and sweat had already soaked the hair at her temples. She wheezed for breath through clenched teeth and her eyes were screwed tightly shut. Swallowing hard in order to maintain her own calm, Alex gently touched Olivia's cheek and parted her lips to begin her familiar litany of soothing words and phrases. Olivia jerked violently at the touch, despite Alex's efforts, and the blonde quickly drew her hand away. Something about Olivia's movements unsettled Alex. Though Olivia was certainly weak, Alex was by now terribly familiar with her flinching and nervous tics. This stunted motion, however, was new.

With absolute horror, Alex discovered the reason for Olivia's stiffness and paused for only a second before again leaping into action. Controlling her own ferocity and panic only for Olivia's sake, Alex tore away the nylon strap binding Olivia's wrist to the bed frame. Hands trembling, she freed Olivia's other wrist before glaring over her shoulder at the lone remaining nurse. Their eyes were locked for a long moment before the nurse, an unfamiliar brunette, conceded defeat and moved to remove the straps from Olivia's ankles. Returning all of her attention to her beloved girlfriend, Alex caressed Olivia's hands before placing them gently on the mattress at her sides. With sorrowful hope rising in the pit of her chest, Alex used all of her self control to force a small but tender smile onto her face.

As Alex whispered to her, Olivia opened her eyes, though her chest still hitched uncertainly and her newly freed hands clenched reflexively at the wrinkled sheets. Slowly, the panicked blankness left her eyes and she focused on Alex's presence. She blinked and Alex was still with her. She wasn't a dream. Suddenly, Olivia felt cold, as if she had fallen through the ice on a frigid winter day. She shut her eyes and dragged her hands across her belly, hugging herself and searching for warmth that seemed just out of her grasp. She thought of the snow and struggled to turn and curl in on herself. She was so tired. Freezing to death was just like falling slowly to sleep and she wanted so desperately to sleep.

Alex snatched a handful of tissues from the box at Olivia's bedside and began to gently dab away the sweat from her suffering girlfriend's forehead and cheeks. Keeping her movements carefully controlled, Alex turned to glance at the still-waiting nurse. "Bring me warm blankets and a new gown. She's drenched in sweat." This time, as she spoke, her voice lost a fraction of her viciousness and became slightly more human. With a pang of regret at the Olivia's suffering, the nurse nodded with greater gentleness than previously and hurried away. Alex resumed her careful patting, periodically tossing the tissues away as they became soaked. Even as Alex touched her, Olivia remained perfectly still but for her breathy moans and shivering. Alex bit her lip. She was desperate to know what had happened here, what could possibly have resulted in her girlfriend being forcibly tied down and terrorized. When she had left to meet her mother and father, Olivia had been fine, as fine as could be expected in her situation. It had taken only half an hour to shatter Olivia's tenuous peace. Alex bit back her tears.


	22. Chapter 22

Alex sat with dangerous feline grace on one of the orange plastic chairs and glances quickly around the tiny closet of a room. Despite the floral watercolors on the walls, no doubt intended to be comforting to families receiving bad news, the room reminded Alex irritatingly of an interrogation room in a police precinct. Well, she thought, smirking, it was an apt setting for the situation. Finally, after all of those weeks as an insurance claims adjustor, Alex was back in her element; those nurses who had terrorized her girlfriend had no idea who they were dealing with.

Two impersonal knocks sounded before the door swung open and all four responsible nurses filed in, filling the tiny room uncomfortably. Alex could feel the irritation and resentment coming off the men and women in waves and she smiled to herself. Of all emotions, these were ones with which she had grown exceedingly familiar. Seemingly patient, Alex waited silently for them to take seats before beginning to speak.

She began slowly and with an almost unnatural flatness of tone. "I have already taken down your names. All I want to know now is what happened to provoke your actions with Ms. Benson, why you thought those actions were warranted and an assurance from each of you that this will never happen again." She tilted her head to the side and fixed one of the men with a steely gaze. "Randy Johansen, isn't it? You're first."

For a moment, the accused man met her steady glare with one of his own before, with a nervous twitch of his eyes, he quailed. He looked down at his hands. "I was at the nurses' station when I saw Ms. Benson's heart monitor flatline. I called a code blue. When I got there, several other nurses had already responded. It appears that Ms. Benson had gotten out of bed and fallen. When we tried to help her back up, she struggled. We were trying to calm her enough to allow us to replace her IV and give her something to help her relax." He trailed off and glanced up at Alex who only nodded.

"Are you aware, Mr. Johansen, of Ms. Benson's history?" She paused for effect and to give him a chance to manage a small nod. "Then tell me. Is it this hospital's policy to forcibly restrain rape victims despite their obvious trauma?" As she spoke, her voice became lower in tone and acquired an increasingly threatening growl. Randy kept his head bowed throughout her statement until she reached the question. At this his head snapped up and he focused on Alex, his eyes narrowed in anger.

"Ms. Cabot," he said harshly. "You know that's not true. We did what we had to do, for the benefit of the patient, not out of some sick impulse to torture her." Alex set her jaw firmly, savagely quashing her intense urge to pummel the nurse's face until he understood what real torture was.

"Mr. Johansen, you claim to have acted in the best interest of your patient. However, I think you need a little education." She paused and glanced coldly around at the other seated nurses. "All of you do. You need to understand the gravity of what you put her through. She was kidnapped by human traffickers. They chained her down and did things to her that you and I would never imagine a human being could live through. She's a cop, you know. She's tough and strong. But when they …" Though Alex fought to maintain her stoic composure, her voice cracked as the real gravity of what her darling had suffered slammed into her. She opened her mouth to continue, but could not force any sound from her constricted throat.

At the failure of her voice, the rest of Alex's façade crumbled, slowly at first and in a rush that resembled a dynamited skyscraper. Before she even had time to react, she felt herself fall forward until her forehead nearly touched her knees. Imagined snapshots of Olivia's torture flashed chaotically in her mind's eye of her lover in iron chains, of her screaming through the agony of electrical shocks ripping through her most tender flesh, or sobbing as hideous men took their turns pleasuring themselves with her broken body. Alex wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

Returned to Olivia's hospital room as silently as she could manage, wiping the last of her tears from her sore eyes and letting her shoulders sag in sudden exhaustion. She just wanted to sit by Olivia's side, shut her eyes and block out the world. She felt more exhausted then she ever had. She sank down on to her customary seat and laid her hand across her eyes. Without meaning to, she sighed heavily.

"Alex?" The blonde started at the soft whisper and dragged her hand away to look down at her girlfriend. Olivia was still curled tightly on her side but her eyes were just barely open and alert. Alex smiled and reached to take Olivia's hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm so cold," Olivia murmured. "Please hold me." As she finished, Olivia let her eyes fall closed again and Alex was grateful. She didn't want Olivia to see the fresh round of tears that stung her eyes at those simple words. After this day, after Olivia's reaction to the nurses and her own breakdown, to be able to hold Olivia in her arms was more than Alex could have expected or hoped. It was a gift.

Without wasting another moment, Alex crossed to the opposite side of the bed and sat, swinging her legs onto the mattress. She had intended to curl around Olivia, as they used to do, but her girlfriend had ideas of her own. As soon as she felt Alex's body near her own, Olivia feebly turned over and moved so that her head rested on Alex's chest. Moving so that her ear was pressed just over Alex's heart, she curled her hands loosely on the blonde's middle and, the last of her strength gone, let herself go blessedly limp. She felt Alex move a little under her, but she didn't – she couldn't – acknowledge it. She just wanted the warmth and the scent and the reassuringly constant and powerful beat of her lover's heart echoing in her ear.

Alex stiffened uncertainly for a moment as Olivia clutched and settled herself. Briefly, she thought of extracting herself from the bed; she was too frightened of hurting or startling her fragile girlfriend. Smiling softly through her rapidly lessening tears, Alex tossed that notion aside. This was what Olivia wanted. This was what she wanted and she had no wish to deny either of them this one small pleasure. Carefully, she laid one hand across Olivia's cheek, cupping her jaw gently with her palm and hoping that her hands were soothingly warm. With the other, she rubbed away the last of her tears. Taking a deep breath, she let her head fall back against the pillows and closed her eyes.


	23. Chapter 23

Alex rubbed her fingers through Olivia's short, damp hair almost absentmindedly while she chatted with Anita. She was grateful for the opportunity to stretch her back and munch on the sandwich the nurse had thoughtfully brought up from the cafeteria. Anita, cheerful and sensitive as always, was gently bathing Olivia and changing her dressings, making small talk all the while. She genuinely liked Alex and respected her fierce protectiveness; Anita liked to hope that, if it was her husband in that bed, she'd act the same way.

Perching on the edge of the bed, she lifted Olivia's limp arm and ran the warm, wet cloth over her skin. Setting her patient's wrist in her lap, Anita picked up the tube of lotion from her supply cart and dribbled some into her hands, pausing to let it warm in her palms. Beginning at Olivia's shoulder, she rubbed the lotion into the unconscious woman's skin with firm, soothing circles. She had done this many times and, though it hardly required her full attention, she gave it anyway out of care and respect for the injured detective. In fact, she would normally have simply assigned a nurse's aide to complete this task but, after her long experience with these two women and after the terror Olivia had suffered at the hands of other nurses, Anita preferred to do it herself. Thus, when something out of the ordinary caught her eye, Anita was quick to take a second look. And then a third.

Her good humor suddenly gone, she quickly dried her hands on a fresh towel and pulled the blankets up to Olivia's shoulders. Acknowledging Alex's questioning gaze as briefly as she could, Anita strode from the hospital room. "Ms. Cabot," she said over her shoulder, "Wait here. I'll be back in five minutes." With that, she disappeared.

Aghast, Alex stared at the empty doorway for a moment before turning her attention back to her girlfriend. According to all of her senses, nothing had changed. Olivia was still unconscious and blessedly serenely so. Frowning, Alex moved to sit in Anita's recently vacated perch on the edge of the bed. Gently, she lifted the blankets from Olivia's arm and took it in her own hands. She could see nothing amiss. Reigning in her piqued worry, Alex tucked the blankets back around her girlfriend and laid her hand on Olivia's forehead. She felt warm but no warmer than usual. Sighing in irritated confusion, Alex let her hand rest where it was. She liked the feeling of Olivia's warm skin against her own; it gave her hope.

True to her word, Anita returned promptly. Trailing behind, with a professionally schooled expression, was an unfamiliar doctor. As he crossed briskly to Olivia's bedside, Anita took Alex's arm and urged her to stand.

"Ms. Cabot, this is Dr. Ramsey, an oncology resident. I called him for a consult after I noticed a lump under Olivia's arm." She paused and tightened her grip comfortingly as Alex flinched. After this many years working in the ICU, Anita understood exactly the thoughts that must be going through Alex's mind. Oncology meant cancer and cancer … well, cancer was cancer. She gave the suddenly stricken blonde a chance to process this new information before guiding her to sit in a chair. For Alex, there was now nothing to do but wait. Anita, on the other hand, needed to speak to the doctor.

Alex felt her entire body go numb as Anita spoke to her. Her mind wanted to deny this new turn of events. Her entire body rejected the notion that, after all she had been through, Olivia might have cancer. It was wrong, completely wrong. Dimly, she felt her body collapse into a chair. Slowly, she turned her head to watch Anita and the new doctor as they bent over her girlfriend. She tilted her head to try and listen but their tones were hushed; she could hear only indistinct mutterings. She wanted to rise and demand that they speak to her but her body wouldn't cooperate. So she sat still and stared. They would come to her when they were ready.

Finally, after an eternity of numb waiting, Dr. Ramsey nodded and left the room. Anita saw to it that her patient was comfortable and turned to attend to Alex. She kept her expression calm and professional as was her custom. Unfortunately, this was news that she had to deliver all too often.

"Ms. Cabot," she said quietly and steadily. "Dr. Ramsey agrees with me. The lymph nodes under Olivia's left arm are abnormally swollen. He's gone to get supplies to do a biopsy. It's a simple procedure. He'll give her a local anesthetic and then use a hollow needle to retrieve a sample of cells from the lymph node. We'll know in a few hours." Again, she paused to give Alex time. She knew the blonde was a strong woman but even the strongest need a few moments to think at times like these. Smiling carefully, she continued. At least there was some potential good that could come out of this.

"Ms. Cabot, if it is cancer, then it's likely that we've found the reason for Olivia's slow recovery. The symptoms have been hard to detect because of her illness but as soon as we find out the results, we can begin to treat her." She paused for a deep breath. "Don't worry too much, Ms. Cabot. Just let things come as they come. If there are bridges to cross, then we'll cross them. But until then, just do what you've been doing." As she fell silent, she gave Alex a little prod. To her satisfaction, that small urging was all Alex needed to rise from her seat and go back to her girlfriend. As she watched Alex ease Olivia into her embrace, Anita couldn't help the sad smile that creased her expression. She hated that these two had to endure such pain but at the same time, she was glad; if anyone would be able to weather it, it would be these women.


	24. Chapter 24

"Olivia," Alex whispered, laying her hand over Olivia's cheek and turning her face away from the doctor crouched at her side. "Look at me, darling. How do you feel?" She wanted to do anything she could to distract Olivia from the large needle Dr. Ramsey held in his hands.

Olivia groaned and spared the doctor only a brief glance out of the corner of her eye before complying with her girlfriend's request. Though even lifting her eyelids was an effort, she looked up at Alex. She sighed. "Ok," she whispered.

Alex smiled as thoroughly as she could manage. "I'm so glad, honey. The doctors…" She paused as her already tremulous voice cracked. Swallowing and praying to maintain her composure, she forced herself to continue. "The doctors think they know why you've been so sick. They think that they can help you feel better. Do you understand?" As she spoke, Alex's worry spiked. Though Olivia's eyes had initially been focused on Alex's face, they slowly drifted away and focused on a point behind her. Uncertainly, Alex dragged her gaze away from her disoriented girlfriend and glanced over her shoulder. She saw only the window. Realization suddenly dawned but she had to be sure.

"Liv," she coaxed, "Why are you looking out the window?" Gently, she brushed her fingers over her girlfriend's temple and settled in to wait patiently for Olivia's answer. She had already waited for so long, she could wait a few extra moments. Finally, Olivia touched her tongue to her lips.

"It's snowing," she sighed. "I want… I want to go outside. Before I die." Those words, spoken so slowly and so quietly, seemed to freeze Alex's heart inside her chest. She was sure that if she so much as took a breath, her heart would simply shatter. Suddenly unable to feel anything, Alex snapped her jaw shut and let the breath whoosh from her lungs and whistle through her teeth. These were words she never wanted to hear from Olivia. She couldn't bear them.

Involuntarily, she tightened her grip on Olivia's jaw and cheek. She bit her own lip until it bled. Absentmindedly, she considered that the pain both she and Olivia felt was her only connection to the world. It was the only thing that reminded her they were both alive. As if she had no control over her own body, Alex heard her words before she understood their meaning. "Okay, Olivia. Let's go outside."

It was as if her very soul responded for her mind certainly lacked the capability for words. Somehow, somewhere deep within herself, she appreciated Olivia's longing. Slowly, Alex forced her conscious mind back in to the present. She recognized that, no matter how desperately she wished and prayed, the words had been spoken and the bleak request made. And she didn't have the strength within her to deny Olivia. This was the woman she loved, the woman she was desperate to keep loving, and if this was what she needed… Knowing what she knew and seeing what she had seen, Alex would make sure that Olivia had her wish granted, regardless of the cost to herself.

Alex knelt on the cold linoleum and tugged the edges of yet another blanket snugly around Olivia's legs. Satisfied, she looked up and grinned at her girlfriend with surprising excitement. This was the first time she had seen Olivia out of bed since returning to New York and, though Alex assumed it was a trick of her mind, she thought Olivia looked a little better. Climbing to her feet, Alex bent low over her girlfriend and tightened the blankets wrapped around the brunette's shoulders. Hesitating, she touched Olivia's jaw with her fingertips. "Are you sure, Liv?" she asked quietly. Olivia looked tiredly up at her and nodded. "Alright, sweetie. Let's go out."

Shooing the nurses' aide away, Alex wrapped her hands around the handles of the wheelchair. Quickly containing her slightly irrational excitement, Alex took a deep breath and began wheeling the chair into the hall. She kept their pace steady and determined. After so many weeks cooped up in the sterile hospital, Alex was ready to feel the wind on her face. She could only imagine how desperate her girlfriend felt. Not only had she too been confined, but she had had to spend that time lying in a bed and being poked and prodded by doctors and nurses. And before that… Alex refused to think of anything that had happened before she returned. Whatever else had passed, Alex knew Olivia and knew her well. Keeping her away from her city was as cruel as locking a wild animal in a too small cage to be gawked at. More than anyone else Alex knew, Olivia thrived on her freedom.

Passing the nurses' station, Alex was startled from her thoughts by a firm grip on her upper arm. Turning to confront the offender, Alex found herself fixed by Anita's level gaze. "Five minutes, Ms. Cabot," Anita said, her calm voice thickened with seriousness. "I mean it." Alex slowly smiled and nodded.

"I know. I promise."

Alex pushed Olivia's chair into the hospital's tiny rooftop garden and set the brakes. Shivering at the fresh cold air trickling down her collar, Alex tightened her own jacket before adjusting Olivia's blankets with tiny, tender motions. She laughed a little at herself; with all of the blankets Alex had insisted on, there was only the slimmest chance that Olivia could feel any cold at all. Brushing the snow from a low brick wall, Alex settled down next to her girlfriend to enjoy their brief sojourn as completely as possible. She had no idea when they might have another chance.

Seemingly unconscious of Alex's worrying over her, Olivia blinked rapidly to clear her vision. Looking down at her knees, she could see fresh snowflakes alight on the pale blankets and melt as rapidly as they had appeared. With a great effort, she pulled her head back to look up at the sky. Numbly, she felt the warmth of Alex's hand on the back of her neck, supporting her, and Olivia silently thanked her. She closed her eyes and smiled faintly as she felt the heavy, wet snowflakes fall on her forehead and her cheeks. It was a beautiful feeling.

Parting her lips, Olivia took a deep breath and exhaled as slowly as she could manage. She liked the refreshing chill in the air that filled her lungs. It was so different from the stale, recycled air inside the hospital. Inside, each breath brought with it the faint smell of death and sorrow. Out here … Out here the air reminded her of life. It reminded her of her life and all the times she had plowed steadily through the same cold air on her way to work or through Central Park or to meet Alex for a date. With thoughts of Alex fresh in her memory, Olivia opened her eyes and looked sideways. She let her smile grow a little wider.

Alex too was taking deep, slow breaths and clearly enjoying herself. She carefully watched Olivia as she did so and, as she saw her girlfriend's newly serene smile, she felt her heart fill with hope. In Olivia's eyes, Alex saw the tiniest glimmer of the woman she had loved so dearly so many years ago and, in each lingering frozen cloud of her breath, Alex knew that Olivia was still with her. Letting her own smile brighten her expression, Alex used the hand supporting Olivia's head to rub her girlfriend's neck. Leaning close, she snaked her other hand carefully under the thick layers of blankets to find Olivia's hand and squeeze it gently. Olivia returned her grasp with all the strength she could find.

"Alex," she whispered. "Who was that doctor?" As soon as the words passed her lips, Olivia saw Alex's smile falter and felt her own do the same. Instinctively, she understood that something was wrong. Alex took a steadying breath and looked away, seemingly unable to look at Olivia while she spoke.

"Liv, they think they might know why you've been so sick. They were sure that you would have pulled through by now because of the antibiotics but…" Her voice, like her smile, cracked but Alex was determined to complete her statement. She owed Olivia the truth. "They found a lump under your arm and they think it might be cancer." Unable to force anything more from her numb throat, Alex let her voice fade away though she was sure Olivia had heard her. Clenching her jaw, Alex forced herself to look up. To her immeasurable relief, Olivia's smile had returned although the expression was faint.

Instead of the pain or worry Alex had expected at giving Olivia this news, she was confronted only by tired serenity. Olivia blinked slowly and let the smile fade from her lips. After her initial joy at feeling the snow and wind on her face, Olivia suddenly felt very tired and her smile became too heavy to maintain. She wanted to use the last of her energy to comfort Alex.

"I knew," she whispered. "I could feel it. Thank you for taking me outside. I wanted to see it one last time." She paused as Alex's hand tensed in her own and she rushed to quiet Olivia. Fixing her eyes on Alex's drawn face, Olivia stopped her with a look. "No, Alex. Don't do that. Just… just take me back."


	25. Chapter 25

Alex smiled and nodded her way out of the hospital room, repeating her grateful phrases again and again as the unfamiliar nurse begrudgingly took a seat. Since they had moved Olivia to the hospital's oncology wing two days earlier, Alex had been forced to start from scratch in developing relationships with the doctors and nurses now assigned to help her girlfriend. Despite her honed negotiating skills, it hadn't been easy. The nurses in the ICU had been exceptionally and obviously compassionate. Oncology nurses, however, were proving to be a different story. Though they clearly cared for their charges, they were professionally stoic to the point of being almost outwardly cold. They had to be. Surrounded by patients suffering through the deathly unpleasantness of radiation, surgery and chemotherapy, they had to maintain their distance or search for a new career. Having seen and dealt with her fair share of horrific scenes, Alex respected the tenacity of these men and women. That said, Alex resented having to beg and plead for every little comfort.

Once in the hall, Alex checked her watch. She knew that she had one or two more hours at most while Olivia slept before they would take her for her first round of chemotherapy. After that, Alex knew from the pamphlets she had been given that the next few days would be filled with Olivia's bouts of debilitating nausea and pain. Alex had no intention of leaving her girlfriend alone in that condition so she had to make the most of the times when Olivia could sleep. Buttoning her coat as she hurried down the hall, Alex mentally ticked off the items on her list of errands. First she needed to stop by a department store for some fresh clothes. Then to the drug store for toiletries and magazines. She checked her watch again and picked up her pace. If she hurried, she would be back in time.

Alex had just enough time to drop her bags onto a chair, slip out of her coat and profusely thank the obliging nurse before an orderly rapped smartly against the doorframe. Waving him in, Alex bent over her girlfriend and touched her cheek. "Wake up, honey," she murmured warmly. Olivia's eyes fluttered open and she slowly smiled up at Alex before the waiting orderly caught her eye. Olivia sighed heavily and Alex's struggled to maintain her encouraging expression. She was dreading this almost as much as Olivia but she forced herself to remain strong. Stroking Olivia's cheekbone with her fingertips, she waved the orderly over. If it had to be done then, for Olivia's sake, Alex would make sure it was done.

Blinking rapidly to hide her tears, Alex wrapped her arm more securely around Olivia's waist. Trying to block out the heart wrenching sounds, she held the basin steady while her struggling girlfriend heaved. As she kept her cheek pressed to Olivia's soft hair, Alex focused on the good parts of the day. She had to do something comforting if she was going to make it through the night.

Once the orderlies had brought Olivia back to her room after her chemo, Alex had hurried to make the most of their short-lived peace. Grinning with half-felt glee, she had opened her packages and showed each new item to her waiting girlfriend. First, there were new pajamas. In the weeks since being brought to the hospital, many of Olivia's wounds had healed and the nurses no longer required such complete and constant access to the brunette's body. So, understanding the depth of Olivia's resentment towards hospital gowns, Alex had chosen a set of heavy flannel pajamas in a navy and brown plaid. With tender touches, Alex had helped Olivia discard her flimsy gown and had smiled with real gratitude when Olivia had brushed her fingers serenely along the sleeve.

With Olivia safely back under her covers, Alex had gently dumped the contents of a second plastic bag into the brunette's lap. Here was a wide assortment of comforting items that Alex had picked up on impulse. There was lip balm to soothe Olivia's cracked lips and a tub of lotion that claimed to moisturize even the driest skin. There was a special pad that could remain hot after only one minute in the microwave and a large box of the thickest, most soothing tissues Alex could find to replace the scratchy hospital issues. She couldn't help but chuckle quietly as she had watched Olivia pick gingerly through the items, touching and smiling tiredly at each one. Acknowledging that Olivia was tiring quickly, Alex had carefully arranged the items on the table at her bedside. She turned off the overhead lights, though she left the lamp on, and had settled herself at Olivia's side.

Opening the lotion, Alex had smeared a generous amount between her palms before reaching for Olivia's hand. Lovingly, she rubbed the lotion into Olivia's skin, keeping her touch firm but gentle. Olivia had only sighed quietly and closed her eyes. Alex was glad. The doctors had warned her that, soon, Olivia would feel the effects of the drugs. For now, Alex wanted Olivia to rest and feel loved.

A particularly violent cough brought Alex back from her reverie and to the painful present. She cooed encouraging sounds softly into Olivia's ear and grimly acknowledged their new reality. The doctors had, regrettably, been correct. The calm hours between the treatment and the realization of the side effects had been far too brief. Instead of resting, Olivia now struggled to bring up the meager sips of ginger ale she had managed. In between heaves, Olivia gasped for breath and moaned wordless pleas for relief. She was exhausted and Alex could feel it as well. The sensation brought fresh tears to sting at Alex's eyes. This was only the first night of the first treatment. They had so long to go, so much more to endure. As Olivia fell back to rest against her, Alex fought to stay strong. She set the basin aside and wrapped both arms around her girlfriend, hugging her as tightly as she could. Logically, she knew that this was best, that Olivia would have to get worse before she could get better. But, in her heart, Alex felt that it would kill her.


	26. Chapter 26

Alex tested the temperature of the water one last time before, satisfied, she returned to the tiny hospital room. Olivia smiled weakly and picked at her blankets, pulling the hems down. Alex rushed to help her, quickly folding the blankets at the foot of the bed and taking her girlfriend's hand. With great care, Alex guided Olivia's legs to hang off the edge of the bed and pulled the IV stand close. Keeping one hand firmly on Olivia's shoulder, Alex paused for a steadying breath and glanced over her shoulder. She wanted to be sure that no nurses were passing by when she helped Olivia up. They had given clear and serious instructions that Olivia was to remain in bed after she had asked to be allowed to take a shower. Alex had done her best to coax Olivia that the nurses were right, that they were acting in her best interests, but her determination had quailed under Olivia's pleading gaze.

Looking quickly from the bed to the bathroom door, Alex decided that the path would be manageable. She was strong. Bending to reach eye level with Olivia, Alex smiled gently and placed Olivia's hand around the IV pole. "I want you to hang on tight, okay? I'll help you." Reassured by Olivia's tight grip around the metal pole, Alex pressed her lips together and wrapped her arm around Olivia's waist. Exceedingly slowly, Alex eased Olivia from the bed and forced herself to ignore the deep grimace of pain that creased her girlfriend's expression when her feet touched the floor. If Olivia could bear it, than so could she. Pressing her girlfriend's body to her own, Alex took a slow step and then another. To her great relief, Olivia kept pace though her fist was white-knuckled on the IV pole. For the first time, Alex gave thanks that the room was so tiny. Just a few more steps and they would make it.

Finally, they were beside the now steaming shower. Guiding Olivia's free hand to grasp the bar bolted to the shower door, Alex moved just sufficiently to be able to reach the buttons on Olivia's pajamas. As quickly as she could, she slipped the flannel shirt over Olivia's shoulders and carefully extracted each of Olivia's hands from the sleeves. As soon as she was able, Olivia released the IV pole and turned feebly away, covering her breasts as well as she could. Though the movement pained her feet, she was desperate. She wanted to bathe but the thought of Alex's eyes on her body made her stomach turn. No, she thought with shame, it wasn't Alex's eyes that worried her. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Olivia admitted the truth to herself: she was the one who couldn't bear to look.

As soon as she draped the pajama top over the edge of the sink, Alex felt her heart drop with worry at Olivia's suddenly changed posture. For a moment, she was at a loss. If Olivia was already suffering this much, maybe it would be a better idea to get her back to bed. But, taking in the hand that shielded Olivia's breasts, Alex suddenly had an idea. Snatching up a towel, she shook it open and tenderly wrapped it around Olivia's body, lifting each of her arms and tucking the towel snugly in place. Luckily, it was large enough to completely cover her and long enough to fall nearly down to her knees. Ensuring that Olivia was steady, Alex bent and tugged the flannel pants down. Straightening, she helped Olivia step free and then looked directly at her. She lifted Olivia's chin with her fingers. "Are you sure, Liv?" Olivia nodded, determination evident even behind the exhaustion that clouded her eyes.

Holding her tightly, Alex guided Olivia's shaky steps into the shower stall and, despite her worry, grinned at her girlfriend's sigh of relief as she sank onto the seat and leaned into the warm spray. Finally releasing her grip on Olivia's arm, Alex lathered the bar of soap in a washcloth. Smiling warmly, she ignored the water soaking through the arms of her blouse and ran the soapy cloth over Olivia's shoulders and arm. Though her eyes were constantly drawn to the shiny scars marking her girlfriend's flesh, Alex forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. She was painfully aware of Olivia's self-consciousness and her shame. She set the washcloth aside and knelt on the thin mat to remove the plastic braces still strapped around Olivia's feet and ankles. Just as she pulled the first strap free, a breath of cold air and an angry voice startled her. Whipping around, Alex caught sight of a nurse silhouetted in the doorway. Her heart fell. They were caught.

Holding her hands up in a gesture of appeal, Alex pursed her lips to speak but did not get the chance. The nurse strode forward, a frown blackening her expression, and reached for the knob to turn off the water. "What do you think you are doing? I gave specific orders that Ms. Benson would be bathed in bed. She's too weak for this." Ignoring Alex, the nurse reached to help Olivia out of the shower. As soon as Alex straightened, she lunged to grab the nurse's wrists and pull her hands away from her girlfriend. The nurse gasped in indignation but Alex paid her no attention. Instead she moved to shield Olivia and to turn the warm water back on. Her heart ached with protectiveness as she bent low over her girlfriend's crouched body. She wanted to cry and to punch the intrusive nurse in the eye.

Olivia was shivering as the water quickly cooled on her skin and she pressed her body as tightly as possible against the shower's far wall. She held her left arm up defensively and clutched desperately at the soaking towel, holding it tremblingly closed. Alex carefully adjusted the showerhead to make sure Olivia would be warm and, giving the hovering nurse a quick icy glance, began her familiar soothing mantra. "It's alright, Olivia. I'm here. Let's just finish up and go back to bed." As she knelt and resumed removing Olivia's braces, Alex finally acknowledged the nurse.

"What's your name?" she asked evenly.

"Donna," the nurse responded. "Ms. Cabot, I really think…"

Alex cut her short, brusquely clearing her throat. "Donna, we can talk about this later. Right now, I just need you to dry these." Without another word, Alex handed Donna the wet braces and returned her attention to Olivia's feet. As she dabbed gently at Olivia's skin with the washcloth, she murmured calming words. She received no response but she had expected none. She could tell that Olivia was starting to flag and she just wanted her to be comfortable as possible until they could get her back to bed. Standing and pushing her sleeves up to her elbows, Alex took Olivia's free hand. "Alright, sweetie, all finished." Sighing, Olivia grasped Alex's hand as tightly as she could and let Alex help her up. She was grateful for the shower but she was tired, so tired.

By the time Alex and Donna had tucked Olivia back into bed, the brunette was practically asleep. Alex settled herself gingerly on the edge of her bed and gestured for Donna to stay. She wanted to talk with the nurse but she was loathe to leave Olivia alone. Picking up the spare hand towel she had brought, she smoothed her girlfriend's wet hair as she glanced at Donna's tense expression.

"I'm sorry," Alex said carefully. "But I would do it again. She deserves a little control over her life and a little comfort. I didn't think it would do any harm." Alex's voice broke as she withdrew the towel and looked down at it. Against the pure white fabric, the hunks of Olivia's hair stood out starkly. She leaned close and, her heart rising into her throat, felt the reality of chemotherapy and cancer come crashing down on her. Olivia had cancer, lymphoma, and she was losing her hair. It was suddenly all too real for her to bear and she quickly covered her eyes with her hand. The gentle touch on her shoulder startled her briefly but, the need for comfort overwhelming her resistance, Alex numbly felt herself crumble into the touch.

Hovering by her patient's bedside, Donna had waited impatiently to have her words with the defensive blonde woman. But, as she shifted from foot to foot in irritation, she could not help but witness the clump of dark hair that came free in the towel and the tall woman's failing strength. Instantly, her heart softened. She was a nurse, after all, and she had become one to comfort the sick and their families. Impulsively, she crossed to stand at the blonde's side and reached to touch her shoulder. For a moment, as the stricken woman leaned against her, Donna stiffened uncertainly. Then her caring instincts kicked in and she wrapped an arm around her thin shoulders. All thoughts of rebuke disappeared from her mind and she spoke gently. "I know," she murmured. "It's hard but it'll get better. You just have to stay strong."


	27. Chapter 27

Alex leaned heavily against the cold wall of the hallway and used all of her strength to keep from sliding down onto the floor. With both hands, she rubbed firm circles on her temples. Dimly she could hear Elliot's voice from inside the hospital room though she couldn't understand the words. That was a small relief. She needed a break more than anything right now and she was grateful for the burly man's presence. She could trust him to watch over Olivia for a little while and his visit might even do the sick woman some good. Gathering herself, Alex pushed away from the wall and began making her way down the hall.

The acute side effects of the chemotherapy had slowly receded during the previous days. Olivia was able to rest more quietly than before and even able to stomach a little food and juice. With these small improvements, the doctors had given the okay for visitors and Alex had called Elliot at her first opportunity. She needed to rest and she knew that Elliot was desperate to check up on his partner. She had been more than glad when he had agreed to come over his lunch break. It would give her a chance to see her parents. While Olivia was overcome with nausea and bone-deep pain, Alex couldn't bring herself to leave her for a second. She hardly even took the time to shower, much less talk to her parents.

Raking her unstyled hair back from her face, Alex walked ever faster down the hall and through the lobby. She was supposed to meet her mother and father at a coffee shop a block down from the hospital. She checked her watch: five minutes late. Sighing with frustration that she didn't really feel, Alex finger-combed her hair a second time and bundled her jacket tightly around her body. A cup of coffee in a real coffee shop would be wonderful and a visit with her parents even nicer.

Hugging and kissing her father and mother, Alex turned and entered the hospital's large, busy lobby with a renewed spring in her step. The time away from the claustrophobic, too sterile hospital had been exactly what Alex had needed to regain her sense of calm. Thus refreshed, Alex was ready and even eager to go back to the familiar room and to her girlfriend's side. She hoped that the visit with Elliot had had a similar revitalizing effect on Olivia.

As she strode through the halls, Alex could hardly keep the smile from her face. It seemed that the hospital had lost some its drabness since she had left only an hour before. Maybe it was her newly improved mood that precipitated the seeming change but, to Alex, the hospital had never looked so welcoming. In fact, as she walked the familiar path, her steps grew quicker. She wanted to share her happiness, however short lived it might be, with Olivia.

Briskly striding through the door to Olivia's room, Alex intended to greet her girlfriend cheerfully but stopped short in shock at the sight before her. For a moment, she stared in surprise. Then an impossibly wide smile brightened her expression and she chuckled out loud. Sights like these made her remember very clearly the reasons she loved Olivia.

Somehow, Elliot had gotten Olivia out of bed and on to the hospital room's single padded chair. She was leaning far forward, her elbows on her knees while Elliot hovered attentively over her. A towel was wrapped around her neck and shoulders and a plastic basin of water sat on the floor at her feet. At the sound of Alex's chuckle, both Elliot and Olivia looked up with matching guilty grins. They were busted.

Olivia broke the silence first. "I wanted to get it done before you came back," she croaked, smiling a little sheepishly. Alex took a few steps forward and knelt by the basin, flashing Elliot a quick wry smile before reaching up to touch Olivia's temple with her fingertips. Her scalp was now almost bare though Elliot was clearly not quite finished. Alex ran her fingers over the warm, soft skin, pausing when she touched a tiny scrap of tissue. She craned her neck to have a better look and, as expected, found that the tissue was stuck to a little nick. She sighed with exaggerated exasperation and held out her hand expectantly.

"I see that Elliot has applied his regular finesse," she quipped as Elliot begrudgingly handed over the razor blade.

"Liv said something similar," Elliot grumbled, winking at his partner in crime. "I blame the equipment." He fell silent as he held up the basin of water to allow Alex better access. Instead, he watched serenely as Alex bit her lip in concentration and the last of his partner's hair disappeared. Suddenly, the blonde yanked her hand back and gasped. A tiny spot of bright red appeared just over Olivia's ear and Elliot smirked. Innocently, he held out a tissue. "All it takes is finesse, eh, Alex?"

Gently pressing a ball of tissue to the spot, Alex first growled and then felt laughter begin to overtake her. As she lifted the towel from Olivia's neck and began to dab at the last traces of water and shaving cream, Alex's shoulders began to shake. Unable to hold it in any longer, Alex snorted and giggled. She could hardly see the towel in her hands for the tears of laughter that clouded her vision. The situation was too much to stand, too funny not to pay it at least some attention. Here she was, on her knees in a hospital room, shaving her girlfriend bald and bickering with Elliot about their relative skill with safety razors. If only she could have taken a picture, she would have ordered it framed and put it on the mantle.

Aware of two sets of eyes upon her, Alex struggled to gain control over herself. She hiccupped and dabbed at her wet eyes with the corner of the towel. Glancing up, she saw Olivia's warm, humor-filled expression and impulsively flipped the edge of the towel over her girlfriend's eyes. Olivia chuckled and brushed the towel away. She ran her palm over her bald head for the first time and smiled. Suddenly tired despite her good humor, Olivia leaned back into the cushioned chair. She cocked one eyebrow at Alex. "What do you think? Good, right?"

Alex stood stiffly and stretched her back. Tenderly, she laid her entire hand over the top of Olivia's head. Caressing the freshly shaven skin with her thumb, Alex nodded. "Anything would look good on you, Olivia," she said quietly. Remembering Elliot, Alex took a step back and made a great show of looking between the two detectives. "Actually, I think you've stolen Elliot's signature look!"

Alex rested her head in her hand and her elbow on the edge of the mattress. With her fingertips, she stroked Olivia's bare temple rhythmically and watched the even rise and fall of her chest as she slept. Lulled into quiet serenity, Alex let her thoughts wander to reflect on the day. It had been a good one, a rarity in the past weeks. Despite the strong smell of antiseptic, Alex was convinced that she could still detect the scent of her mother's perfume lingering on her blouse. Her parents were a blessing to her and she thanked God for them. Her mother's embraces and her father's words comforted her like no one else's efforts could. They gave her the strength to stay by Olivia's side. She wished sincerely that Olivia had parents like her own to come and console her. At least she could be there for her, Alex mused, and Elliot.

Given the opportunity, Elliot could be a force of nature. He had been the one to find and save Olivia and he had been the one to bring Alex to Olivia's side. Alex was too grateful to him for words. She had no notion of how she could ever repay him. She hoped that he understood. As she continued to watch Olivia sleep, Alex smiled a small smile. Instead of just the hospital blankets, Olivia was wrapped in a bright pink fleece shawl. Apparently, it was a gift from Kathy and Lizzie. Alex had a guess as to who had chosen the fabric's color. She made a mental note to thank Elliot's family personally as soon as she got the chance. The shawl was garish but the sentiment was sincere. Alex was not the only one who loved and cared for the sleeping woman. Stifling a wide yawn, Alex decided that she was finally ready for sleep. She pressed a tender kiss to Olivia's cheek and gently pulled the brown stocking cap onto her girlfriend's head. Pausing, Alex touched Olivia's hand. She hoped that tomorrow would be another good day.


	28. Chapter 28

Olivia kept her breathing very soft so as to better hear the regular thumping of Alex's heart, pumping steadily away just beneath her ear. She liked to lie like this. That relentless rhythm reminded her that Alex was really here, was really alive and with her. It was more than she had hoped for to be able to hear it again after Alex had been so suddenly taken from her. Closing her eyes, she brought her hand to curl around Alex's hip and held her as tightly as she could manage. In a more rational part of her mind, Olivia scolded herself for such childish clutching at Alex's body. However, she could not listen. She didn't have the strength. She was tired and in pain and too wordlessly grateful for Alex's body to care. Warmth licked at the deepest places in her heart in time with the caresses of Alex's fingertips against her cheek.

She felt Alex speak the words first, the vibrations in her throat gentle against Olivia's scalp. It took another moment for the meaning of the words to sink through her heavy thoughts. "Tell me something, Olivia, about before I came back." Olivia opened her eyes a little, just sufficiently to look across her girlfriend's collarbone and see the warmth of the lamplight on her skin.

"Like what?" she whispered.

"Anything."

Olivia let her eyes fall closed again and listened to Alex's heart beat for a long time. Finally, she spoke. "I went to your funeral. Even though I knew you were alive, seeing the casket was… No one else knew. Your parents held my hand and tried to comfort me." She paused and swallowed, catching the breath that emotion tried to take away. "After that I went back to work. You weren't there but everything else was the same. I moved back into my apartment. I couldn't stand to be in yours without you." She fell silent.

Alex bit her lip as Olivia spoke, listening carefully to make sure she caught every one of her incredibly soft words. This was not what she had intended but she listened anyway and resisted her quick urge to quiet her. If this was what Olivia wanted to say then Alex wouldn't be the one to refuse her.

"I took your slippers, you know. Not all of them. Just a few. They don't fit me. You have big feet, Alex." Lost in thought and welling tears, Alex choked in surprise. She coughed as the sudden laughter caught her and she hugged Olivia close.

"God, Liv," she spluttered. "My feet?"

Screams echoed too loudly in her ears and she screamed to be taken away from them. She gagged desperately but the choking penis was shoved even deeper into her throat. She tried to bite down but her jaw wouldn't move. Retching hollowly, she shook her head wildly and jerked her arms. She couldn't move her hands. She felt the ropes snaking around her wrists, pulling tighter and tighter until her hands stung and deadened. Nothing worked, nothing helped. She wailed but heard only laughter. It rang hideously in her mind and seemed to warp into two voices and then more and more until it was all she could hear. She couldn't even hear the beating of her own heart.

Despite Olivia's feebleness, it took all of Alex's strength to keep her on the bed. It was as if she had been possessed. Gasping raggedly for breath, Olivia gnashed her teeth and bucked wildly to get free. Alex locked her arms around her, trapping Olivia's arms between their bodies, and wailed for her girlfriend to wake up. Clenching her teeth, Alex tried to sneak one hand away to press the call button but could not. Olivia immediately sensed the opportunity and writhed frantically, seemingly struggling for her life, and Alex was forced to give up her efforts. Choking, Olivia heaved to the edge of the mattress and retched. Alex held her as she fought to bring something out of her empty stomach and, gathering her breath, screamed for help.

Blessedly, Alex seemed to hear the rapid footsteps of the nurses even before she finished her desperate pleas. As soon as Donna took in the scene in the dim room, she sent her partner for medication with terse instructions and went to see to her struggling patient with as much calm and efficiency as she could manage. With strong hands, Donna firmly unwrapped Alex's arms and pushed her away. Donna was trained for this. She would be able to hold Olivia more safely until the medication came. She knew that Alex hovered and stared, but she ignored it. It was a skill long developed in her years in the hospital. It was easier for everyone this way.

Olivia again found her voice as the veins in her arm seemed to burn from the inside out. It was happening all over again. They were forcing the meth into her body. They would take away her sanity before they took away her security. She knew the routine. While her teeth chattered and her heart pounded violently, they would rape and break her body. She knew that it would be easier to just give up, but something kept her struggling. There was something or someone she had to survive for but she couldn't remember. It was just beyond her grasp.

Unable to do anything else to save herself, Olivia rolled her head back and dragged her resisting eyelids open. She wanted to see their faces, the ones who were doing this to her. She wanted to see if they were human.

The first things she saw were teeth, long and dripping, and eyes burning with evil. She moaned, feeling her body slipping away from her, and blinked with great effort. This time, she saw no monsters. These were human faces, human expressions contorted with worry instead of hate. Struggling, she blinked a third time. She no longer saw just a human face. She saw Alex. Alex was here. Numbly, she repeated the statement over and over in her head until it ran together and became unintelligible. Even without meaning, the syllables were strangely comforting. Unable to resist any longer, she let her eyes sink shut without resistance.

Alex held her breath and dug her fingernails into her palms as Olivia rose up to fight against the medication. She couldn't help but let her thoughts turn to the drugs she knew Olivia's captors had used against her will. She couldn't help but think that she was doing the same thing. Fighting these thoughts, Alex repeated her mantra that this had to be done, that it was for Olivia's own sake. Despite her efforts, the insidious voice continued to nag at her. She was no better than they had been. She was taking Olivia's choice and control away from her for her own comfort.

Finally, after minutes that seemed to stretch out much longer, Olivia's stiff body collapsed by fractions until she laid still but for the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Once she was certain that Olivia was no longer a danger to herself, Donna carefully laid her patient back onto the pillows and gave her a quick once over. Everything seemed to be in place. The monitors were still functioning and the IV was still securely taped to the back of Olivia's hand. Satisfied that her patient was safe for the moment, Donna took a deep breath and turned to Alex.

"Ms. Cabot, she'll be out of it for a while. She should sleep for the rest of the afternoon, but I want you to call us if she wakes up. I think it was just a nightmare but I want to have the doctor talk to her. Alright?" As she expected, Alex only nodded in response. Donna had enough experience to know that a simple nod was probably the clearest sign of understanding that Alex could manage after being so frightened. She squeezed Alex's arm and left, beckoning for her assistant to follow. She had done all she could do and now she would leave the two women alone to comfort themselves.

Alex numbly watched the nurses leave, hugging herself tightly. Her heart was still pounding with adrenaline and she could hardly bring herself to check on Olivia. She just wanted to believe that she was alright for the time being. Instead, Alex focused on a spot of nothing on the wall and let herself just stare blankly. Unexpectedly, a wave of pure hatred washed over her like a crushing, cold wave. She gasped at the sensation and gritted her teeth as the emotion surged again. She hated them. She didn't know who they were, but she hated them for what they had done to Olivia. She hated them for what they were making her do to Olivia. There was no other word for it. She hated them.

Dimly, Alex became aware of the pain radiating from her elbows and realized that she was digging her fingernails into the joints with all of the force in her body. Trembling, Alex forced herself to let go, one finger at a time, and pushed her tense arms down to her sides. Though her body was stiff, her thoughts were clearer than she could remember. She didn't know how much she missed that feeling until she felt it again. Since going away to Wisconsin, Alex hadn't had a real purpose. Now she had one. She would find those bastards and kill them. With her new clarity, Alex closed her eyes and systematically released the tension from each of her straining muscles. Her goal was in place. She could take this moment to hold Olivia in her arms.

Her effortless grace restored along with her steely thoughts, Alex eased herself to sit on the mattress and lean against the raised pillows. Maneuvering Olivia's limp body with strong, steady hands, Alex gathered her girlfriend into a secure embrace. She pressed Olivia's head to her chest and breathed deeply. She hoped that the sound of her heart would soothe the restlessly sleeping woman even through the haze of sedating drugs. It was all she had to give her. At least, it was all she had right now. Soon, she would be able to give Olivia the comfort of her attackers behind bars or dead. She swore it would be so. Laughing grimly, she swore it on her own grave.

Under the sounds of her breath, Alex slowly became aware of Olivia's whispering. She craned her neck to see and hear more clearly and felt her iron resolve become tempered into cold steel. Though the words were quiet and breathy, they were clear. Olivia was almost chanting. Her face was beautifully calm and Alex smiled protectively. She would get them through this and they would see the light on the other side together. She shut her eyes and willed herself to relax into sleep with Olivia's barely audible words echoing in her ears.

"Alex is here. Alex is here. Alex is here."


	29. Chapter 29

On some level, Olivia was aware of her body and her surroundings. She could hear the voices and feel the hands touching her but responding to the sensations seemed like it would take more energy than she had to give. She had exactly enough strength to deal dimly with her own body's basic needs; anything else wasn't important enough. When she was tired, she slept. When she was sick, she heaved. When she was cold, she hugged herself. Otherwise, she just stayed still and let her thoughts run away with her.

It was a dramatic relief to be so free and independent. In a way, she didn't even feel as if her body belonged to her. Sure, she felt its needs and responded, but it no longer felt as though she really possessed it or had any meaningful connection to it. It was just there. Sometimes, she could look down, as if she hung from the ceiling, and see the limp body in the bed. Consciously, she knew that the body was hers but, in her newly free state, she didn't care about it or about what had happened to it. It didn't matter.

Without her injured body to stop her, Olivia could do as she wished. She put on beautiful clothes and rubbed the softness of silks, cashmeres and cottons between her palms. She walked through the streets and looked down the narrow alleyways between tall buildings. Snow fell from light gray clouds and alit on her shoulders and hair but, instead of making her cold, they felt gently warm to the touch. They didn't melt and soon she had to brush them away or be buried. She stretched out her hand and laughed when Alex took it. It was perfect.

Hand in hand, Olivia allowed her dream-Alex to lead the way into a movie theater. Though the sidewalks had been teeming with pedestrians, the theater's lobby was completely empty but for the flashing lights and enormous garish posters. Though she would normally have found the setting a little eerie, Olivia felt no fear. Warmed with anticipation, Olivia followed the blonde into a theater and took a seat. As in the lobby, she and Alex were completely alone. Olivia grinned widely. With no one around, maybe she could ignore the movie and pay attention to Alex instead. She turned to wrap an arm around Alex's shoulder but her outstretched hand was met instead with an enormous bucket of popcorn. She was stunned into silence for a moment before her stomach growled loudly. Suddenly, she was ravenous. Rolling her eyes at Alex's customary delicateness as she reached for the popcorn, Olivia dug in.

From the first light and fluffy kernel, Olivia firmly decided that this was the best popcorn she had ever tasted. Every piece was warm and crunchy with just the right amount of butter and salt to make it perfect. No tough skins irritated her gums and no old maids threatened to crack her teeth. She was just about to compliment Alex on the treat's tastiness when the lights rapidly dimmed and the theater buzzed with the faint sound of the movie projector's spinning. Briefly, Olivia wondered what movie they would see. But, before she could ask, her question was answered for her.

In brightly true colors and extreme proportions, the scenes of torture were projected on the enormous screen. Though there was no sound, Olivia could clearly see the woman screaming in agony as faceless men bent over her with flashing, steel blades. With muffled shock, Olivia realized that the screaming woman was herself. She could remember this torture, though not from this angle. Instead of being recorded from the woman's prone position, the movie had been shot as if from the point of view of one of the torturers. Olivia was watching her own suffering as if she were the one inflicting it. Dimly, Olivia searched her emotions for pity or pain or horror but she found none. Though she clearly understood that this was no mere movie, that someone had actually done these things to her, she felt nothing. She could feel nothing. That body was a stranger to her. The way she sat now - in the movie theater, wearing warm clothes and holding Alex's hand - was reality. This was her.

Feeling eyes upon her, Olivia turned her head and met Alex's gaze. There was laughter evident there and a wide smile on Alex's lips. For a moment, Olivia simply stared before she too began to smile. With a gentle touch, Alex used her fingers to turn Olivia's chin so that she looked back at the movie screen. Made complacent by the faint, but ever present, knowledge that this was all a dream, Olivia complied and was rewarded by Alex's lips nuzzling at her neck. Stretching back to allow Alex more complete access to her throat, Olivia continued to watch the horrific scenes unfold on the screen before her. They were bloodcurdling and yet she felt only the warmth of Alex's breath over her skin. She blinked, shutting her eyes lingeringly as she enjoyed the touch. She knew that there was something else she should be feeling, something darker, but Alex was too distracting and Olivia was all too willing to be distracted.

In the few hours after Olivia's second round of chemo, Alex was well prepared. She had microwaved the comforting heating pads and double checked the supply of mouth rinse she kept by the bedside. These were the things that soothed Olivia most when her body revolted against the drugs. As before, Alex cradled her girlfriend in her lap, supporting her when she retched and holding her tightly when she rested. The entire process was becoming uncomfortably familiar, but there was little else Alex could do.

This time, however, instead of regaining her normal level of alertness and small activities, Olivia stopped responding once the nausea lessened. It was if she had simply quit. Alex tried speaking to her, tried coaxing her to tell a story or at least ask for one. She stroked her fingertips over Olivia's bald head and tickled her, pleading silently for a chuckle or an irritated swat. Nothing she did produced a response to indicate that Olivia was indeed still with her. And, yet, she was clearly not completely gone.

There were small signs. When nurses came to bathe Olivia or to replace her IV bag, Olivia would shy away from their touch and even from their presence. Her movements weren't violent, but subtle; turning her head away; wrapping an arm around her body. Alex, watching like a hawk, noticed. When the blankets slipped down from her shoulders, Olivia reached out. Her hand would crawl blindly over the sheets until, finding the hem, she could pull the blanket back up to cover herself. Alex repeated the experiment several times, tugging the blankets down a little further each time. Each time, sooner or later, Olivia reached down and replaced them. It was like she was dozing.

Sometimes, Alex caught Olivia smiling, her eyes closed. She looked like she was dreaming of something delightful. Alex wondered what it could be. She supposed that it must be nicer than reality. That said, however, her lack of real responsiveness worried the blonde and, unable to stand it any longer, she spoke to the doctor.

He appeared with unfailing regularity at uncomfortably early hours, always with a few students or residents in tow. Despite these staring extras, however, Alex genuinely liked the man. His name was Dr. Black, Olivia's oncologist, and he was clearly an excellent teacher as well as a great comfort to his patients and their families. He certainly was to Alex.

On the second day of Olivia's seeming coma, Alex pointed it out to the doctor. He lowered his eyebrows for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before he approached her bedside. He pressed two fingers to her wrist, feeling her pulse as if there was something he could detect that the machines couldn't. He released her hand and replaced it on the bedcovers. Glancing over his shoulder, he fixed his three pupils in his steady gaze. "What can you tell me about Ms. Benson that might explain her symptoms?"

Instantly, all three began to speak, each trying to make his or her own case before the others. With a gentle wave of his hand, Dr. Black quieted them and, with raised eyebrows, reminded them silently to take their turns. Alex watched, quietly amused, as they each gave an opinion. The first two gave very serious, thoughtful analyses, citing a reaction to the chemotherapy drugs or a comatose state brought about by stress and trauma. The third remained silent for a moment, pressing his lips together as if working up the courage to speak. Sensing his senior's eyes upon him, however, he quietly murmured his opinion.

"She doesn't want to wake up."

Dr. Black chuckled at the answer, pointedly ignoring the superior glances the other students flashed at the third. "Well, Dr. Banerjee, since yours is the easiest to test, let's see if you're right." He beckoned the unsettled resident over to the bedside and leaned to murmur instructions into his ear while the other residents strained subtly to hear. With wide eyes, Dr. Banerjee took Olivia's hand and lifted her arm. Biting his lip, he reached out to touch her bicep and, with a split-second's hesitation, pinched her. Alex, who up until now had watched passively but with interest, leapt forward, snarling, to pull him away. The young resident started but kept his place as Dr. Black stopped Alex short with a hand on her arm. Placated for the moment that the doctor she had liked so well had some sort of plan in mind, Alex restrained herself though she remained stiff and protective at Olivia's side. With a reassuring nod from Dr. Black, Dr. Banerjee tore his eyes away from the fuming blonde. More hesitantly than before, he pinched his patient again.

This time, Olivia beat even Alex to the punch. Her free hand shot out and grasped Dr. Banerjee's wrist tightly. She opened her eyes just a crack and fixed the unnerved doctor with a flat gaze. "Fuck off."

Alex, so tense only a moment before, felt all of her anxiety flood from her body in a raw nerved rush. She laughed out loud, the unexpected sound making everyone in the cramped room jump in surprise. This was her old Liv, back in the flesh, and she was certain that no single sentiment had ever made her heart so warm. Especially such a crude one, she mused happily. Dr. Black quickly joined in her laughter, taking in the shocked looks on his residents' faces and clapping Dr. Banerjee soundly on the back.

"Why you should be proud of yourself?" he crowed. "I don't ever think I've seen a patient make such a quick recovery!" Awkwardly, Dr. Banerjee extracted himself from Olivia's grasp and backed away, clearly unsure of whether to feel satisfied or thoroughly embarrassed. Dr. Black ignored his deep blush and turned to his other residents. "You two would have put Ms. Benson through hell and back when your fellow here was smart enough to see the real problem. I think we should all make a note of this: don't throw an MRI at a problem a little pinch would fix. Now, unless these two nice ladies need anything else, I think we should get back to rounds." He turned to leave but stopped when Alex gripped his shoulder firmly.

Looking him directly in the eye, she spoke in a sharply edged voice. "If you ever, ever try anything like that again without telling me…" She paused for a moment, trying unsuccessfully to keep the overjoyed grin from her lips. "I'll kick your ass from here to Newark and back." As she finished, she simply could not resist any longer and her stern expression dissolved into laughter. Dr. Black grinned and shot his residents a quick look.

"Let that be the second lesson," he said humorously. "Never, ever surprise a lawyer."


	30. Chapter 30

Alex gingerly wheeled the chair through the door of Olivia's familiar apartment and smiled widely. She remembered with exacting clarity the last time she had spent here. It had been one of her last and happiest times with Olivia before… Well, she didn't want to think about that now. That did not, however, prevent her from remembering that wonderful evening. She wasn't exaggerating, even a little, when she thought of it as being one of the happiest times of her life. It was just, she hadn't expected it to end the way it had. The happiness, that was. Even that night, Alex had had the ring hidden safely in her purse. She had just been waiting for the perfect moment, the date of Olivia's dreams, to kneel and ask her beloved girlfriend to be her wife. She had just been waiting for Saturday night. She never got her chance and the ring… the ring had stayed hidden in her bags, in her drawers, in her pocket for the last two years.

Laughing a little at her happy thoughts – ones she thought would remain only poignant memories – Alex bent down and pressed her lips to Olivia's temple as she nudged the door shut with her toe. It had taken a long time, but the wait had been worth it; now she had a chance to make new memories, maybe even the one memory she had hoped to make all that time ago. Brusquely bringing herself back to the present, Alex rose to greet her parents who were just emerging from the kitchen. Bill winked at his daughter as his wife brushed carefully by Alex to kneel on the rug. Though she and Bill had come to love and accept Olivia as a part of their family, they had seen little of her since Alex's funeral. It was too painful: for the grieving parents, Olivia's sad eyes were too exact a reminder of their daughter's brutal murder; for Olivia, the agony of being unable to relieve their pain was unbearable. Despite all the time that had passed, however, Kathleen was more than delighted to finally see the beautiful detective again. She only wished that this reunion hadn't been so costly for Olivia.

"Hello, Olivia," she said quietly, her voice warm and sincere. Suddenly, however, she simply couldn't think of what to say. She had so many things she wanted to communicate to this woman who was so dear to her daughter and who had suffered so much. She just couldn't sort out her jumbled thoughts and bubbling emotions. So instead, she took Olivia's hand in both of her own and pressed it, praying that the brunette would understand. Olivia's trembling grip and her bashful smile warmed Kathleen's heart and, with a gentle squeeze of the brunette's hand, she stood and finally paused to greet her daughter.

Alex was already at her father's side, talking in quiet tones and accepting a set of apartment keys and a thick file of papers, everything she needed to begin her life as Alex Cabot all over again. She was grateful for her parents' help, thankful that they had kept her money untouched and some of her most prized possessions in tissue-filled boxes in the attic. Without them, Alex had no idea how she would handle all of this.

With a quick kiss to her daughter's cheek, Kathleen smoothed her coat over her arm and looked meaningfully at her husband. "If you're alright here, I think your father and I ought to get going and leave you two to settle in. We're staying with Aunt Dorothy – you remember her – and I've written all the information down. There's food in the fridge. Just call if you need anything, anything at all." This last statement was called over her shoulder as Bill ushered her down the hall and out of the door. Grinning knowingly at his daughter as he shut the door, Bill winked again. It was a ritual he and Alex had shared ever since Alex had moved into her very first place. Though Kathleen always swore to keep her nose out of her daughter's business, some how Alex's kitchen was always magically restocked with organic produce and her furniture mysteriously rearranged to comply with feng shui guidelines. It was a comical scene that replayed itself without fail at each of Kathleen's visits and which always ended with a stream of advice called from a distance and one of Bill's signature winks. And, judging from the state of Olivia's kitchen, this visit had been no exception.

Locking the new deadbolts, Alex brushed her long hair back from her face and set the file folder on the kitchen table. She could deal with it later. Right now, she needed to get Olivia settled in. Getting discharged from the hospital had taken the greater part of the day and the sun had already disappeared behind the city's tall buildings. She knew that Olivia was tired and they had so much to get done before either of them could sleep. They had to eat, to unpack, to do all of the things needed after a long absence. But first on the list? A shower.

All that morning, during the length of the ride home, thoughts of a shower, a real one, at long last, were all Olivia would talk about. Alex had already burned through her litany of alternatives: a sponge bath, a soak in the bathtub, a spritz of perfume to tide her over until the following morning. But, true to the stubborn woman Alex knew and loved, Olivia had rejected outright any idea that involved something other than a spray of hot water and an obscene amount of soap. Giving up in the face of Olivia's solid determination, Alex had conceded defeat in the elevator and had made a promise she planned to keep. Carefully extracting the heavy coat from around Olivia's shoulders, Alex pushed her girlfriend into the kitchen. Before Olivia got what she wanted, Alex expected her own satisfaction.

Holding out a tall glass of juice, Alex smiled. "Drink up, Liv. You haven't had anything since lunch and don't think I didn't notice you just pushing that around with your fork." Alex held her breath for a split second, waiting for Olivia to take the glass, before she suddenly burst into surprisingly exuberant laughter. Just as Olivia took a grudging sip, rolling her eyes over the lip of the glass, her face contorted into a grotesque expression.

Spluttering blandly, Olivia held the glass back out. "No, Alex. I'd rather go back to the hospital. That's terrible." Alex scoffed and took the glass from her disgusted girlfriend.

"Come on, Liv, it's just juice. Just drink…" As she spoke, she raised to glass to her own lips and took a drink. Her statement, however, was abruptly cut off as first the odor and then the overpoweringly nasty taste assaulted her senses. It was only with effort that she swallowed the mouthful of sludge. "Good God, it tastes like dirt. I think there's actually sand in there." Making an equally disgusting face for Olivia's benefit, Alex retrieved the carton from the refrigerator and frowned at it. "This is my mother's fault. Algae is the second ingredient on the list. Must be her latest health craze." Dropping the juice into the garbage, Alex bent again to search the fridge for something more palatable. She had to get something into Olivia's stomach; a blackout in the shower was not how Alex wanted to begin their first night at home. Grimacing, Alex searched around jugs of unsweetened hemp milk and bottles of kombucha packaged in 100% recycled glass. Finally, her gaze lit upon something she was sure Olivia would appreciate.

"Remind me to say thanks to my dad," Alex quipped, cracking open the cold can of Coke and pouring it into a fresh glass. "Tomorrow, we'll replace all of this with something easier on the throat but without so much sugar. But, for now, enjoy it." Alex waggled her eyebrows at Olivia as the brunette sipped the soda with more obvious obedience than was absolutely necessary. Leaning against the counter, Alex took the opportunity to watch Olivia carefully. The move back to the apartment seemed to be quickly snapping Olivia out of the deep depression she had fallen into over the last few weeks in the hospital. She was livelier, her color was healthier, and she was drinking with more enthusiasm than Alex had seen in some time. She assumed that the Coke was a welcome improvement over the room-temperature, watered-down cranberry juice the nurses had tried to tempt her to drink. Sipping her own glass of soda, Alex waited patiently for Olivia to finish. It was only a small glass but, if she finished, it would represent a significant step in the right direction.

Alex rolled her sleeves high above her elbows and reached under the shower spray to test the water's temperature. Finding it to be pleasantly warm, she turned to Olivia who sat impatiently on the toilet, fiddling with her towel and frowning anxiously. Alex sadly guessed at her girlfriend's thoughts. It was the scars, always the scars, that made Olivia so uncomfortable in her own skin. Alex hated it. There was so little she could do to east Olivia's pain, nothing she could do to turn back time or to make the ugly marks disappear. The only tools she had were optimism and complete acceptance, but neither of those would be a quick fix; they needed time and work to do any good. She sighed gently and forced a strong, reassuring smile onto her face.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Alex held out her hands and waited for Olivia to make the next move. She knew that Olivia had asked for this but, remembering the outcome of the last shower they had attempted, Alex wasn't going to be the one to push her. Secretly, Alex hoped that Olivia would back down and ask to go to bed instead. She could clearly see the exhaustion in the lines of Olivia's face and she couldn't help the worry that tinged her thoughts. But, slowly, Olivia placed her hand in Alex's and stood gingerly. Biting her lip and turning her brown eyes to the ceiling, Olivia gradually let the towel fall from her body.

"I'm ready," she murmured. With her arms tightly around Olivia's body, Alex guided her to step into the shower, easing her under the spray. Alex blinked rapidly as a fine mist of water wet her face and arms. Clearing her vision, she kept one hand on Olivia's hip and took one of Olivia's hands in the other, moving it to grasp the towel bar. Only then, sure that Olivia was as steady as she could be, did Alex let her attention wander.

Watching Olivia's relaxed face as she threw her head back and let the water beat against her throat and chest, Alex instantly took back her secret wish to deny her girlfriend this simple pleasure. She had had those thoughts out of complete and devoted concern for Olivia but she still regretted them. She hadn't seen her girlfriend so content in too long.

Blindly groping for the soap, her eyes closed as she leaned under the spray, Olivia only released the towel bar for a moment to lather a washcloth in her hands. Groaning softly, she ran the soapy cloth over her body, always keeping it between her fingers and her scarred skin. For these few moments at least, Olivia wanted nothing to interrupt her perfect pleasure, no memories, no pain, no jagged scar tissue. For these few moments, she could pretend that everything was normal and absolutely fine. Besides, it all felt so good: the water and the fresh-smelling soap and Alex's hands quietly holding her. She wanted to pretend, just for a few moments.

As she watched Olivia relax gradually in the warm water, Alex felt her own body and mind follow suit. It was impossible to stay tense in the billowing steam with Olivia's quiet moans filling her ears. Smiling genuinely, Alex watched Olivia wash herself, following the path of the washcloth with her eyes.

This was her first chance to really see Olivia's body, all at once and without the frame of nurses and sterile sheets. The sight both frightened and reassured her. Reddened from the heat, the scars were lurid and painfully obvious. The drops of water and soap bubbles left crooked tracks as they detoured around and over the raised skin and paused in the hollows between Olivia's protruding ribs. Taken all together, Olivia's body was a mess, a disfigured map of undeserved torture. But, even as Alex cringed in sympathy, her thoughts turned unexpectedly positive. The fact that Olivia's wounds had turned to scars, meant that she had survived. She had made it. They were ugly, but they were also beautiful in Alex's eyes because they were part of the woman she loved, just part of a whole woman. If it meant that they could still have a chance to be together, then Alex could live with any scarring. Now, it was just time for her to convince Olivia of that.


	31. Chapter 31

Warm wetness, just for a split second, was her only warning of the shock of agony that shot up her arm. Through eyes that rolled in pain, Olivia stared in horror at her hand. The sight made her stomach roil in fear and intense nausea. Two fingers were missing, seemingly ripped from her hand without reason or warning. Panicking, she curled her injured hand against her shirt to stem the bleeding and fell to her knees, groping wildly in a desperate attempt to find the missing fingers. Some voice in the back of her mind demanded that, if she could just find them, a doctor could reattach them. But, other than the smears of blood rapidly tinting the concrete floor, she found nothing at all. It was as if they had simply vanished into thin air.

Clenching her teeth against a fresh wave of pain, Olivia cringingly took her hand away from her soaked shirt to take a better look. Maybe she had been mistaken. Retching, she realized she had not. And now, just as horrifyingly, the rest of her fingers were gone and she was left with nothing but a bleeding stump. Unable to control herself any longer, Olivia threw her body forward onto her good hand and heaved violently. The pain and terror were all she could feel and they took away her last vestiges of reason. Blindly, she crawled away, feeling her way across the cold floor, searching and searching for something, some way out of this nightmare.

Pain slammed through her knee and she collapsed, dimly aware that the liquid under her cheek was her own blood. Involuntarily, Olivia looked down, morbidly desperate to see with her own eyes the damage she knew would be there. Her leg was gone, simply not there from the knee down. Reeling, she struggled to her elbows and began again her struggle for escape or relief, hoping without real hope that she would make it before anything else was ripped from her body.

More pain shocked her senses and this time she didn't look back, already sickeningly aware that her other leg was gone. She wanted to vomit again, but the adrenaline drove her inexorably forward. Against all the pain, she dragged herself across the floor, heedless of anything but the need to run. She reached forward but, before her eyes, the rest of her arm vanished and she hit the floor. Feebly, she tried to rise again but couldn't; her strength was gone. Instead, she curled weakly onto her side to wait for death. She closed her eyes but the soft thump of footsteps on concrete distracted her from even this last, meager comfort. With the last of her strength, Olivia dragged her eyes upward, following the line of long legs until she finally focused on the face looming high above her. Recoiling, she shuddered. It was Alex.

"Olivia, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm that was unrecognizable in the woman Olivia thought she loved. Choking on the pleas for help she so desperately wanted to whisper, Olivia reached out with her hand to scrabble shakily at Alex's show. But Alex's slow step back put her out of reach and Olivia again forced her gaze upwards. She wanted to know why, why Alex wouldn't help her. She loved Alex and Alex loved her, or so she had thought. She wanted to look into Alex's eyes, one last time.

There she found her answer. Alex's eyes were red, burning with hate or something worse. She saw lechery, disgust, horrible evil. Too tired and too cold for anything more, Olivia let her hand fall back to the floor. As she stared, a horrible grin stretched Alex's lips and Olivia screamed her last breath as agony blossomed across her face.

Olivia blinked rapidly, her scream still echoing in her ears. Her eyes focused on the ceiling, white and roughly textured, each imperfection thrown into deep relief by the dim, slanting light from the city outside. With effort, she peeled the fingers of one hand from around a handful of sheets and dragged it up to touch her face. It was there, all there, her nose, eyes, teeth, everything. She shuddered in profound relief and held her hand shakily in front of her face. It was whole and there was no blood and no pain. Only then, convinced at last that it had only been a dream, did Olivia become aware of the gentle touches and equally gentle voice.

It was Alex. Her fear spiking, Olivia's eyes flew to meet Alex's, searching for any hint of the evil burned into her mind in the dream. Alex's eyes were wide and distraught, her hair in wild knots. She knelt towards the bottom of the bed, reaching out to stroke Olivia's legs and murmuring in a soft voice that shook with worry and care. It was just Alex, Alex, her Alex with no hint of the demon that had haunted her nightmare. She let her head fall heavily back onto the pillows.

Suddenly, she felt cold, colder than she could ever remember feeling. Shivering, she curled on her side, wrapping her arms around her waist, searching for warmth. The mattress dipped underneath her and Alex's warm body curled around her, comforting and reassuring in its solidity and undeniable life. But, despite her embrace, Olivia still shuddered. She couldn't seem to shake the cold nor could she rid her mind of the nagging sense that, at any moment, she might start to lose pieces of herself again. She felt brittle, like she might simply fall apart, disintegrate in Alex's arms. She clutched at herself in the hope that she might find some way of keeping herself together. She didn't know if she could do it. At least, she knew with certainty that she couldn't do it alone.

Scrabbling, she pulled at Alex's arms, tugging them tighter around her body, begging wordlessly for Alex to hold her closer. Alex pressed their bodies together, hugging Olivia as tightly as she could, squeezing until her arms ached and she could feel Olivia's pounding heartbeat. It didn't seem to help; Olivia's shuddering didn't lessen and her chest fluttered with too-rapid breaths. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She didn't know if it would work, but she couldn't think of anything else. She had to try.

With gentle coaxing, Alex convinced Olivia to sit up. Very slowly, without making a sudden movement or taking a sudden breath, Alex eased her arms from around her girlfriend's shaking body. Speaking calm words, Alex stripped the top sheet from the bed, pushing the down comforter aside and folding the sheet lengthwise. Aware of Olivia's skittish focus on her every movement, Alex knelt on the bed. She draped the folded sheet around Olivia's shoulders and tucked the edge into her grasping hands.

Keeping her eyes locked with Olivia's, Alex smiled as warmly as she could. "Just keep holding that, okay, Liv?" Olivia only blinked and shivered and Alex hoped that meant understanding. Keeping her smile carefully on her face, she wrapped the sheet around Olivia's body twice, pulling it tight. Maintaining steady pressure, she pulled it tighter and tighter until Olivia's arms were pressed to her chest. Cradling Olivia in her arms, Alex helped her lay on her side, quickly laying down beside her and pulling the comforter to cover them both. She gave the sheet one last tug, ensuring that it was secure, before she wrapped her body as completely around Olivia's as possible. She embraced her with her arms, curled one leg around Olivia's and nuzzled her cheek against her warm scalp.

She held her in silence for several breaths, centering herself and applying all her senses to Olivia's condition. To her immense and heart-breaking relief, Olivia stayed still in her arms. Her breathing slowed and became even and her shuddering declined into gentle shivers and then real stillness.

"Is this alright, darling?" Alex whispered, almost unwilling to break the new-found peace but compelled to speak out of worry.

Olivia nodded a small nod against Alex's cheek and took a deep, trembling breath. "Just… don't move. Please." Alex closed her eyes in relief and regret. She sighed quietly.

"No, sweetie, I won't. I promise."


	32. Chapter 32

She felt warm, so wonderfully warm. The feeling was such an immense relief. She was content, comfortable, secure and just as madly in love as she had ever been. She never wanted this moment to end but bright, winter sunlight was pouring through the window and making her eyelids glow red. It was morning and, as much as she didn't want to be disturbed, she opened her eyes. Sighing sleepily, Olivia squirmed gently and smiled. It was morning and she felt wonderful.

Blinking again, she saw Alex's hand, slack on the bed beside her, and felt her warm breath caressing her cheek. She reached to touch Alex's hand, to bring it to her chest and hold it there, but found it impossible. Her arms were trapped, pressed to her body. Memories of the night before flooded back to her. She remembered the tightly wrapped sheet, her chills, the nightmare… She shivered involuntarily before she forced her thoughts back to more pleasant things. It had only been a dream, infinitely less important than what was happening right now, reality. She hunched her shoulders a little, curling in Alex's loose embrace and testing the tightness of the sheet around her body.

She wondered what had made Alex think of it, how she had known that Olivia needed to be held together. She felt so safe, tucked in so securely with Alex just by her side. At the same time, however, it had all seemed so grotesque and terrifying. She had lost her control; she had felt like she had lost something vital to who she was. But, in the bright light of morning, she felt a little like a baby, screaming until her mother swaddled her. Despite herself, she blushed.

"Hey, sweet pea, are you awake?" Olivia was, but that didn't prevent her from choking a little in surprise at the familiar, all-but-forgotten nickname.

"I guess so, huh, sugar beet," Alex chuckled, eliciting exactly the indignity with which Olivia always responded when she was teased like this. It had always been one of her favorite games to play at Olivia's good-natured expense, seeing how red her girlfriend's cheeks would get as she came up with more and more embarrassing pet names. Olivia harrumphed and, though Alex couldn't see her face, she knew that she must be rolling her eyes. She couldn't resist sneaking in another gentle jab. "Did you get any sleep, honey buns?" She snuck her hand further under the covers and gave Olivia a gentle pat on her rear. Olivia growled in irritation and Alex decided to cease fire, for a little while at least. "Here, I'll help you out of that."

Carefully, she loosened the sheet around Olivia's shoulders, pushing the cloth away as Olivia stretched gingerly and yawned with relish. She turned onto her other side and settled herself back under the comforter, face to face with Alex. "Thanks. Morning… blondie."

Alex laughed out loud, reaching to stroke Olivia's cheek with her fingertips. "Is that the best you can do, pudding pop? I expected better from you." Olivia grinned and rested her hand over Alex's, nuzzling against the blonde's palm.

"Ask me again after coffee, Alex. I'll try harder. Just don't use up all the good desserts or you'll end up with something less appetizing." She smiled as she whispered, but the joy slowly drained from her face. She had the unsettling sensation that Alex's enthusiasm was only partly genuine, that the memory of the previous night was casting a pall over her worried girlfriend that she tried to hide with bright cheerfulness. Olivia gathered herself and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Alex. It was just a nightmare."

"I know, Liv. Do you want to talk about it?" Alex watched her carefully, rubbing her cheek soothingly.

"Not really," Olivia sighed. Her gaze crept sideways, away from Alex's face and she clenched her jaw. "I was falling apart, piece by piece. I couldn't find… You were there." She paused and Alex wondered if she would continue. Her concern grew.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you… you." Olivia paused, wishing she could hide from Alex's piercing eyes. She was sure that she would know if she lied but equally sure that she wouldn't tell the truth. "You saved me."

Alex returned the smile but said nothing. She had a nagging suspicion that Olivia wasn't being entirely truthful but she had no real interest in pressing her. She just hoped that Olivia would speak when she needed to. It was a new day, time for fresh starts and, most importantly, fresh groceries. That would be their project for the day, visiting the supermarket and stocking up on staples to replace the rice flour and seaweed snacks her mother had filled the cabinets with. It would be good to get Olivia out of the house; she knew that the brunette had been dying for a breath of fresh air for weeks. Maybe that would cheer her up. Turning her attention back to her girlfriend, she winked. "Glad to be of service, hot fudge. Now, let's get out of this bed. I feel like a sloth." She moved to roll out of bed but stopped when she felt Olivia's fingers close around her wrist.

"Wait, just a few more minutes." Olivia kept quiet until Alex settled back onto the pillows. "I have a question. How did… how did you know to…" She gestured to the tangled sheet lying in a heap at the bottom of the bed. Alex followed her motion and laughed lightly.

"Oh, that. I saw it on TV." She grinned and schooled her expression into one of perfect, angelic innocence. Olivia just gave her a look, her sardonic, skeptic's stare of complete disbelief. Alex held her own for a second before she folded with overdone dramatics. "Fine, you got me. I'll tell you my dirty little secret but first you have to come here and close your eyes." She held out her hand to coax Olivia into her arms, encouraging her until Olivia's face was nuzzled against her chest and her breath wafted hot over the top of her breast.

"When I was… away, I had to be a completely different person, someone I had never met, someone I wasn't. I thought that, the longer I had to pretend, the easier it would get. To make a long story short, it never did. Everyday was a struggle to remember my name, my new history, to smile at Emily's friends. All I wanted to do was go home and be myself, with you.

"Pretty soon, I figured out that, when no one was looking, I could go home, in my memories. The problem was, there was always the chance that someone was watching. Except for one place. In bed, I was absolutely alone. In bed, I could be Alex, the kick-ass lawyer and smokin'-hot homosexual woman. There was only one thing missing: you. It wasn't nearly as much fun being myself without you there. So I used to pretend that you were there. I took a sheet, folded it just like last night and wrapped it around my shoulders. If I closed my eyes, it felt almost like you were there, holding me and sleeping beside me. It was never as nice as this," she said, pausing to squeeze Olivia a little tighter, "but it was better than nothing.

"When I saw you last night, after you woke up, you looked so alone. I couldn't help thinking of how I felt. So I tried it out, my old trick, on you." She took a breath, as if to continue, but fell silent.

Olivia held perfectly still as she listened to Alex's soft speech. She both hated and loved hearing about the two years they had been separated. She was exceedingly curious, to be completely honest. But she didn't want to be nosy, like she was jealous. Well, maybe she was a little jealous, at least of the time that had been stolen from them. Mostly, she didn't want to inadvertently bring up any painful memories for Alex. Her beloved blonde already tense enough. Still, if Alex volunteered stories or tidbits, Olivia was certainly not going to stop her. Curiosity killing the cat be damned, Olivia was certainly curious.

"Thank you, Alex. I…" She stopped. She really didn't know what to say. Luckily, Alex did. It had become somewhat of a theme in their lives lately; Olivia hesitated while Alex charged ahead. Olivia tried to wonder about this change but Alex didn't give her the chance.

"Alright, now it really is time to get up or I'm going to fall back asleep. I'll make coffee, just the way you like it, sugar cube."

Olivia groaned in mock anguish. "Whatever you say, swizzle stick."


	33. Chapter 33

Stepping lightly and softly, so as not to wake her girlfriend, Alex spread handfuls of flower petals across the floor in a carefully planned pattern. She wanted every part of the surprise to be absolutely perfect. After all, Valentine's Day came around only once every year and, given their situation and history, Alex fully believed that she owed Olivia three holidays worth of love and gifts. That was the reasoning behind her sneaking through Olivia's apartment, leaving behind pretty trails of white rose petals – Olivia's favorite – to lead her girlfriend to all of the surprises waiting for her.

A long sigh and the rustle of sheets made Alex freeze in place, holding her breath and not even daring to let the last of the petals fall from her fingers lest she wake Olivia. If she was busted now… Alex even forced her thoughts into silence. Moving only her eyes, Alex focused on her restless girlfriend, urging her mentally to settle down and fall back asleep. Finally, after a few agonizing seconds, Olivia's body relaxed completely and her breathing evened out. Still holding her breath, Alex spread her handful of petals as she backed out of the room and eased the door closed. She exhaled in relief. Now all she had to do was finish getting dressed and wait for Olivia to wake up. She checked her watch and smiled. She had just enough time to finish her make-up before Olivia's alarm went off. Shivering in pleasurable anticipation, she turned back to the hall mirror and squinted, swiping at her eyelashes with mascara.

Alex wanted to look her very best tonight. Ever since she had come back, Olivia had only seen her in ratty, comfortable clothes, with little or no make-up and her hair in hurried ponytails or braids. But now she was ready for a change. She was ready to get all gussied-up and take her beautiful girlfriend out for a lovely date. She deserved a nice night to reward her for all she had accomplished in the two weeks they had been home.

Every day, Alex was delighted with how much stronger Olivia seemed. She knew she shouldn't be as surprised as she was. This recovery was exactly what the doctors had intended when they sent Olivia home. Chemotherapy couldn't be endured indefinitely; patients had to be given a chance to heal periodically. So, after a few treatments, they released Olivia so that her body could recuperate. Their decision hadn't evoked a single thought of resistance in either woman. Olivia was desperate for a reprieve from the constant aches and pains, the vomiting and sores that wouldn't heal. All of these were routine symptoms caused by the drugs they pumped into her but that fact didn't make them any easier to bear. And, quite frankly, Alex was equally desperate for Olivia's sake. If the doctors were giving their blessings, she was perfectly happy to help her girlfriend escape from this miserable hospital.

It hadn't been an easy decision, at least in terms of follow-through. When Olivia sobbed forlornly on the sofa, ignoring all of Alex's efforts to soothe her, or when she kept shivering despite the stacks of blankets wrapped around her body, Alex wholeheartedly wished she could just press a button and have a nurse magically appear. But there was no button and there were no nurses; Alex had to learn to deal with all of this alone. Well, not exactly alone, she continually reminded herself. Olivia was with her, even as sick and heartbroken as she was, and she was trying. And, gradually, her efforts were paying off.

With every attempt she made, Olivia could walk a little steadier and exert herself for a little longer before losing her breath. At every meal, she managed to eat a little more and keep it down. All of this made Alex happier, more relieved and, to her own mild surprise, puffed out with pride. Only Olivia had the tenacity and naked stubbornness to fight her way back so steadily from such a disaster to her health. Alex couldn't help the image that popped into her mind of Olivia as an ass at the end of a taut lead, hooves firmly planted as she brayed her defiance and absolute refusal to budge a single step. Alex laughed and shook her head to clear it of all her worn-out ruminations. She was just about ready and, judging from the muffled beeping and shuffling coming from the bedroom, she had better hurry. She wanted to look perfect when her lovely, stubborn ass finally opened the bedroom door.

Harsh beeping stabbed at Olivia's ears, relentless even as she rolled over and prayed for just a few more minutes. She was so comfortable and she hadn't been dreaming, a minor thing for most but a great relief to her. She scrabbled at the alarm clock, fiercely scratching at the tiny knob until the shrill noise ceased. She collapsed back onto the pillows in frustration. Squinting, she looked back at the clock. Six p.m., on the dot. She guessed that she should probably get up, regardless of how sincerely she didn't want to, if she wanted to be able to sleep at all tonight. But, the funny thing was, she had no recollection of setting the alarm. She rubbed her eyes and pushed the covers away, sitting up. Only then did the trails of rose petals catch her eye. She grinned, all traces of weariness suddenly wiped from her body. Now she knew exactly who was responsible for that alarm.

Unable to resist either the lure of the fragrant petals or her own wide grin, Olivia followed the trail from the bed to the bathroom. She flipped the light switch and gasped in pleasant surprise. Hanging from the towel rack was a set of new clothes. She lifted the white card pinned to the blouse and, reading it, she felt her grin grow even wider. "Wear me, XOXO," was all it read but Olivia shivered in delight anyway. If whatever Alex had planned required clothes this nice, Olivia was certainly willing to give the outfit a try.

She dressed as quickly as she could, relishing the way the cloth seemed to caress her skin. It felt expensive, just the way Alex's thousand-dollar suits felt against her palms when Olivia helped her slide them off. She sighed in pleasure; as comfortable as jeans and pajamas were, it was nice to feel so classy and well kept again. She gave herself a careful once over in their full-length mirror and chuckled. It was an outfit that only Alex would choose for her.

The slacks were charcoal gray, made of heavy wool with hems that skimmed the floor, nearly hiding the black leather flats. The shoes were surprisingly comfortable, cushioning her disfigured feet as if they had been made just for her. Her blouse was a simple button-up, a little like something she might wear to work but much nicer and a clear, pale pink. Alex had left her a cardigan, knowing how Olivia was always cold, and Olivia took a moment to rub the edge of the sleeve between her fingertips. It was impossibly soft – cashmere – and jet black. But, best of all was the scarf she used to hide her bald head. At least, that was how she was sure Alex would feel. It was a deep, rich pink, just the same hue as her shirt, and subtly patterned. She rolled her eyes a little at Alex's choices but decided that, for her girlfriend's sake, she could just about bear to humor her. Taking a deep breath, she followed the second trail of petals through the bedroom door.

The trail didn't end in the doorway but Olivia no longer needed it to guide her to her goal. Alex stood in the living room, positively glowing in soft grays and black and holding a single, white rose. She smiled tenderly and held out her hand, silently asking for Olivia to come to her though she clearly needed no real encouragement. She rushed to her girlfriend, ignoring her offered hand and stepping wholly into Alex's embrace. She touched her fingertips to Alex's cheek, gazing up into her sweet blue eyes until she could restrain herself no longer. She coaxed Alex to dip her head and pressed her lips gently to the blonde's, pouring all of her wordless love into the soft contact. It had been so long since she had kissed Alex like this, out of love untainted by desperation or grief or any other such sadness. It was too long since she had been in love like this.

Cuddling Olivia subtly closer, Alex lifted her champagne flute and motioned for her girlfriend to do the same, murmuring, "To us." Olivia clinked the rim of her glass against Alex's, repeating the blonde's simple phrase but hesitating to drink. Interpreting her uncertainty, Alex winked conspiratorially. "Go ahead, Liv. I ordered it just for you, a bottle of their finest ginger ale." Grinning, she clinked their glasses again and drank as Olivia chuckled lightly. Alex was satisfied; this was going so well, almost better than she had dared hope. It was almost like it had been, all that time ago.

Alex brought her hand to caress Olivia's cheek and run her fingers along the edge of the silk scarf. The touch made Olivia blush which, in turn, made Alex smile lovingly. God, she's beautiful, Alex thought to herself. She repeated the sentiment aloud, snickering in delight as Olivia's blush deepened. She knew that such public displays of affection sometimes made her girlfriend irritated and uncomfortable but, hey, it was Valentine's Day and, in this cozy, secluded booth, no one could see them anyway.

Really, she thought, looking around a little at their surroundings and letting satisfaction make her a tiny bit smug, she had found just the perfect place for their first real outing. Olivia was still exceedingly skittish, very shy when it came to people staring at her scars, her scarf, at the cane she leaned on. Unfortunately, there was little Alex could do to deflect the glances. The scars couldn't be hidden well, Olivia didn't want a wig, but she could do everything in her power to minimize her exposure. Which was how, after a little searching, she had found this little fondue place with its dim lighting and nearly enclosed booths. Here, Olivia only had to brave the short walk from the door. She wanted to muse a little longer in the comfortable quiet, listening to the muted murmurs of fellow diners and congratulating herself, but the waiter's appearance interrupted her.

"Here you are, ladies," he said cheerfully, setting the table with tiny dishes of bread, apples and vegetables and a larger, steaming pot of rich fondue. He winked at Alex, grinning with eager servility, obviously laying it on thickly so as to coax a large tip from a love-blinded couple. Alex had the feeling that he used the same tricks on all of his tables but, at this moment, she couldn't care less. And, she laughed to herself, she also had the feeling that it would work; she was in such a good mood tonight that he would almost certainly get his wish. But, at this moment, she had other things to think about. Namely, she had very intricate plans that involved filling Olivia with as much fattening food as she could possibly hold.

As soon as they were through the apartment door and out of their winter coats, Alex whirled to face Olivia with a devilish look in her eye. Olivia started a little at the unexpectedly predatory look, eyeing Alex carefully. She had just assumed they would climb into bed and go to sleep but Alex clearly had other plans. Olivia trusted Alex, she did, but that didn't stop the thrill of nervousness that made her a little wary. She wasn't ready for anything that usually followed her catching that look of Alex's. She was sure she wasn't and she had assumed that Alex understood that. "Alex, I don't…"

Before she could finish her thought, Alex was close at her side, a hint of genuine gentle playfulness lessening the intense look in her eyes. "Don't look so nervous, sweet pea," Alex whispered. Before Olivia could respond with words or even a look, she felt Alex's arms around her shoulders and behind her knees and she was swept suddenly from her feet. She gasped audibly, momentarily ashamed to have made a sound that could only be described as a squeak, and threw her arms around Alex's neck in surprise. But there was, of course, no surprise in Alex's expression. She only smiled widely and laughed out loud. "Sorry, Liv, but I've been wanting to do this and I knew you'd never let me. It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission, so… will you forgive me?"

A peal of heartfelt laughter purged the last traces of suspicion and shock from Olivia's mind and she loosened her grip on Alex just sufficiently to bury a hand in her blonde hair. "That depends. Which response will get you to put me down faster?"

Alex whistled softly and grinned. "I'll take either at this point. I don't want to ruin the mood or tarnish this grand romantic gesture, but you're heavier than you look." She walked as she teased, reaching the sofa and slowly sitting down. She sighed with exaggerated relief. Running her fingers over Olivia's side, she paused to poke her gently in her too-flat belly. "Must have been all that chocolate fondue you had for dessert."

Biting her lip, Olivia scooted off of Alex's lap so that she could settle her cheek more comfortably against her girlfriend's shoulder. Alex's sweater had a wide, v-neck which left her collarbone bare and Olivia loved to rest her head there. She smiled against Alex's pale, warm skin and pressed a soft kiss to the base of the blonde's throat. "That may be true, but I seem to remember you doing some significant damage to that chocolate too. In fact, I seem to remember helping you get rid of some of the evidence on your lip." She felt Alex's hand rub over the silk scarf and she found, with mild surprise, that she loved the sensation. She lifted her head to look at Alex. The blonde cooed and coaxed her to sit up a little straighter. She leaned close and pressed her lips to Olivia's, lingering lazily and closing her eyes. Reluctantly, she pulled back.

"Just returning the favor and checking for evidence, sweetie."


	34. Chapter 34

Alex pushed Olivia in her chair slowly through the market's aisles as she alternated surveying the contents of the shelves and consulting her list. They didn't need much, just essentials and one or two extras. Even had she wanted to buy more, she couldn't have done so. She preferred bringing Olivia along on her shopping trips over going alone and, though this set-up made frequent trips necessary, she wanted Olivia to have the opportunity of getting out of the apartment as often as possible. Besides, seated in her wheelchair with a plastic basket on her lap, Olivia made a most helpful and adorable shopping cart.

Perhaps most entertaining of all were Olivia's frequent attempts – and successes – at sneaking extra items into the basket while Alex was distracted looking over pears or comparing prices. Alex had already made it abundantly clear that, while she wanted to fill their diets with healthy foods, Olivia only had to ask for anything she saw that appealed to her. After all, just getting enough calories into her was the most important thing. As far as Alex was concerned, if Olivia wanted only peanut butter and potato chips, she would be more than happy to comply. She just wanted her to eat. However, as the sly slipping of jars of peaches and packages of sugar cookies into their basket continued, Alex suspected that Olivia was simply trying to get a rise out of her. And she admitted that she enjoyed it at least as much as Olivia did. Too much of their time together was spent dealing with humorless situations; the barest breath of a joke or good-natured teasing was now a source of disproportionate joy to them both.

The flash of a bag of pretzels being smuggled in between a sack of apples and a loaf of brown bread caught Alex's eye and she smiled indulgently. She leaned over Olivia's shoulder to put a little carton of half-and-half into the basket, bending a little lower than absolutely necessary. She briefly pressed her cheek to Olivia's temple and stroked her scarf-covered head with the palm of her hand. It had only been a couple of weeks but she had already discovered how much Olivia liked the sensation of the silk against her skin. She plucked the illicit treat from the basket and looked at it discerningly. "Hmmm," she hummed. "Good choice." With exaggerated care, she tucked the pretzels back into their hiding place and, ignoring Olivia's sardonic, sideways glance, straightened to return to her shopping. There were frozen items that she didn't want melting all over Olivia's knees.

Alex drummed her fingertips against the check-writing stand as the young cashier rang up each of their purchases. She suddenly felt distinctly ill at ease and she couldn't quite identify the source of her feeling. This errand was nothing out of the ordinary for her or for Olivia; they came here at least once every couple of days and Olivia had been shopping here for years. That said, she couldn't help the prickling at the back of her neck that told her she was being watched by unfriendly eyes.

She handed over her credit card and hefted the first sack of groceries, turning to sling it over one of the chair's handles. That was when she spotted it, the source of her discomfort. Just outside the market's door, clearly visible through the plate glass, was a man who seemed to be lurking, conspicuously inconspicuous. Something about the way he lingered and looked into the store out of the corner of his eye made Alex suspicious. It didn't help that, though he looked vaguely familiar, Alex couldn't place exactly how she knew him. Whatever it was about him that was making her nervous, Alex just knew that she had a strong urge to take their groceries and go home.

With renewed haste, she tucked the last bags onto Olivia's lap and tugged on her gloves for the short walk home. She hoped that she was worried for nothing but, as they approached the door and the strange man quickly rouse himself, her hopes seemed to sink a little. She stopped in her tracks and bent down to her girlfriend. She had a bad feeling and she wanted to warn Olivia.

"Hey, Liv. Do you see that guy out there?" She whispered, so as not to be overheard.

"Yeah," Olivia said, eyeing him, and Alex finally noticed the red color in her girlfriend's cheeks. She should have guessed that Olivia would already be aware. He really wasn't very subtle and she was a detective and a very good one. "Yeah, he's been there for a while, staring at us."

Alex bit her lip. "Why don't I call a cab to pick us up? We can just wait here. I don't think he'll come inside."

Olivia shook her head in stiff, determined stubbornness. "No. We're only three blocks away." She clamped her jaw shut and pulled her scarf more securely onto her head. Alex considered refusing and insisting on calling for a car, but thought better of it. She had to let Olivia make decisions for herself; it was the only way she would heal. After a moment's hesitation, she straightened and grasped the chair's handles.

As soon as they passed through the automatic doors, Alex realized with absolute clarity where she had seen the man's face before. She saw it in the magazine racks every time she checked out at the market. His face stared out, smiling, from a one inch photo on the cover of _Truth be Told_, an incredibly trashy gossip rag. Damn, she hissed to herself, he was that reporter Ben Randall. At least, that's who he would be if you could describe the dreck he wrote as reporting. Her intuition had been right; this was going to be unpleasant, if they were lucky enough to have it go that well.

"Hey, hey," he called, flagging them down with a notepad as Alex strode quickly past him. "Ben Randall, _Truth be Told_. I just want to talk to you two for a minute, just a few questions." Alex shot a furious glance at him and did not stop walking.

"We don't want to talk to you. Please leave."

She had hoped against all odds that her words would turn him away, that he had an ounce of human compassion in him that would convince him to leave Olivia in peace. She was not, however, surprised when he persisted in the same overly loud, obnoxious tone.

"Come on, ladies. It'll be sensational. The front page, I promise. A former public figure back from the dead who just happens to be the lesbian lover of a kidnapped cop with cancer. You'll sell a mission copies, I guarantee it. Maybe even a book deal afterwards. Just a comment or two. That's all I need. We can do it while you walk." Exasperation finally getting the best of her, Alex whirled around in anger.

"I already told you. We have nothing to talk about with you. Now leave us alone or I'll call the cops." She poured as much steely rejection into her voice and expression as possible as she took a menacing step towards him. She could tell that Olivia was beginning to get upset; her flush was deepening and she hunched forward in the chair, putting as much distance between herself and the aggressive stranger as she could. She was getting stronger and bolder all the time but she was still visibly skittish in the presence of strangers, especially men. Alex wanted to get rid of this creep and turn the apartment's locks safely behind them. She whirled around and resumed her determined pace but recoiled violently when a bright light blinded her.

"What the hell?" she spat, snarling in the direction of the flash. While she had been distracted with the irritating reporter, a photographer had appeared and shoved a camera at Olivia. A second flash set fire to her smoldering rage and Alex leapt at him, growling and shoving the camera away. "Just try that again, you…" she ground out. He retreated, at least for the moment, to protect his expensive equipment and she turned her back. To her horror, Randall had already set upon Olivia. She could see Olivia fumbling with the wheels of her chair, rolling herself away from the persistent man though he easily kept pace with her.

Alex strode after her. All she had to do was deflect his advances for another block and they would be safe in the apartment. She was only two steps behind, one step… And then she saw a hand reach out and grab Olivia's shoulder. Even as she swore to herself and leapt forward, she knew that she was too late.

Olivia shot out of her chair, stumbling over the footrests and the groceries that fell from her lap. She yelped as one knee hit the ground but she clawed her way back to her feet and pressed her back against the nearest building. She held her hands out, struggling to keep them steady, and tried to warn him to stay away though her voice was only a whisper.

Ben Randall held his ground, lifting his hands halfway into the air and looking innocently around him. "Hey, hey," he practically shouted, loudly enough for any passersby to hear. "I just touched her. She just freaked out." But Alex didn't give a hair from a rat's ass about who was watching or what this bastard might say or do. He was harassing them. He had frightened Olivia. She wanted him gone.

Teeth clenched tightly together, Alex grasped his wrist and yanked, hissing, "I want you to walk away right now or I'm going to start screaming. When the cops get here, we'll see whose side they take, a cop's or a scumbag's." She stared him down for a long second before he jerked his arm away and sneered. For a moment, Alex was sure he would say something but he evidently had a good idea of how close Alex was to the edge. He snapped his mouth shut and beckoned to his cameraman. With an offensive backwards glance, he shoved his notepad into his pocket and stalked away. Alex watched him with challenge and grim satisfaction.

Only when the two men were several yards away and still maintaining their retreat did Alex turn to see to her girlfriend. Though a small crowd of looky-loos had gathered, Alex pointedly ignored them, determined that there would be no more of a scene to hold their interest. She focused exclusively on Olivia, her chest tightening as she took in the fragile woman's blank look, white knuckles and mantra of inaudible whispers. Damn, this was bad. She approached her steadily and slowly.

At first Olivia only stared at her, her eyes wary and wide. Then, as almost painful recognition clouded her expression, she shoved away from the brick wall and practically fell into Alex's outstretched arms. Swallowing her brief surprise, Alex caught her and kept her steady, waiting for her shaky legs to strengthen before guiding her back to the chair. Once Olivia had collapsed into the seat, Alex hurriedly gathered up as many of the loose groceries as she could reach. She wanted to retreat to the apartment but she also didn't want to be forced to go out for supplies before she had a chance to deal with this new interest by the press. She piled them gently in Olivia's lap, distracting the brunette from her fright with the task of keeping track of dented soup cans and loose apples. They just had to keep it together for a few more minutes, a few dozen steps, and they would be safe.


	35. Chapter 35

Olivia heaved a heavy sigh of relief as Alex locked the door solidly behind them and began to toss the groceries haphazardly onto the kitchen counter. As long as that door was shut, they were in their own private cocoon. Reporters might call, they might knock, but all of that could be ignored with a little effort. The phone could be unplugged, the door could be deadbolted. All they had to do for the time being was to stay together and give Elliot a call and they would be out of reach of those scumsuckers. That thought helped Olivia close her eyes and push the remaining fear away. To be sure, in the few minutes that she had been pursued by Randall, she had been terrified. But, consciously, she had known, even then, that she was in no real danger; they had been in a public place, in broad daylight, and Alex had been with her. Nevertheless, her panic had been almost instant, violent and public and she couldn't help feeling a little ashamed now that she had calmed down. She was coming to terms with the fact that she had been made a victim, but she was damn sure that she wasn't going to lie in fear for the rest of her life. She was better than that.

Forcing a smile onto her face, she looked up to tell Alex so but, to her surprise, Alex was not in sight. It was odd; most of the groceries, even the frozen ones, were still in a mess on the counter and Alex's coat and shoes were in a heap on the floor. This sloppiness was highly uncharacteristic of Alex, a woman Olivia lovingly teased and called her very own "Spic-n-Span Barbie." Olivia awkwardly stood from her chair and went to work. If Alex was hiding, it meant that she was upset. Alex never liked losing her cool but, most of all, she resented having anyone see her cry. Olivia knew that she was included in this "anyone" and so she decided to give Alex a minute while she cleaned up the kitchen and hung up their cold-weather clothes. After all, if Alex needed her, she certainly knew where to find her.

A short while later, Olivia slid the last of the cans onto the cupboard shelf and let the door fall closed. She hadn't hurried; in fact, she had dragged the task out as slowly as she could. However, it was an easy task even for someone as unused to exertion as Olivia had become and, despite her best efforts, she only managed to stretch it out to fifteen minutes. At this point, she figured she had only two options now. She could of course find other things to busy herself with around the apartment or she could bite the bullet and go find out what Alex was up to. She glanced around. The apartment was, as always when Alex was around, scrupulously and mercilessly tidy. There were no more chores that needed to be done, not that housework was particularly interesting for Olivia at the moment. In fact, she was actually very much interested in rest. As much as she hated to admit it, the shopping trip and the confrontation had taken a toll on her and she really just wanted to lie down for a little while. That said, she knew she'd never be able to be still while she worried about Alex and her mind was quickly made up.

It took her only a minute of checking to figure out where Alex was hiding but that did nothing to make the search any more comforting. If anything, the act of having to seek Alex out when she was in pain made Olivia's heart ache. She resented the way their relationship had changed. She had been forcibly transformed into an invalid and, though Olivia loved and appreciated her for it, Alex had gracefully accepted her role as a caretaker. Olivia hated the onesidedness of it all; Alex gave and she took and took. And it scared her a little. If things continued like this, she was sure that soon there would be nothing left of Alex for her to love. She had been helpless but she wasn't helpless any longer, at least not completely. It was time for her to make things right. It was time for Olivia to start giving.

Alex was in their bathroom, standing at the sink with her head bowed low and her fingers clenched with all of her strength over the sink's porcelain rim. She wasn't crying but Olivia was sure she had been and she made no sign of acknowledgement when Olivia pushed the door open. The only sound she made was the whistle of her breath through her teeth. She had obviously only just regained control of herself and clearly struggled to maintain it. For a moment, Olivia hesitated in the doorway, unsure of whether her presence would make things better, but then she thought of how Alex always managed to comfort her and how grateful she was. She had to give it a try even if Alex pushed her away.

Olivia approached her girlfriend; even through the sleeves of her shirt, Olivia could see Alex's shaking, straining biceps and she was wary of surprising her. The last thing she wanted to do was give the stiff woman a scare so she kept her hand held gently out and spoke softly. Alex still made no sign that she was aware or that she recognized Olivia but Olivia crept closer and closer until she was at Alex's side. She opened her mouth to say something more meaningful than the soothing nothings she had been whispering but, as Alex flinched, she thought better of it. Instead, she laid her hand on Alex's back and began to rub. Pressing her palm gently against her girlfriend's trembling body, Olivia drew her hand up and down, up and down, just the same way she used to do after Alex had had a hard day at work. All the while, she watched Alex's profile carefully for signs that her actions were doing any good at all.

Though it felt good – actually better than she had even imagined – to finally be able to be there for Alex, Olivia's guilt returned in full force. She couldn't help feeling that this was her fault. Alex was tough. There was no way an argument with a shithead reporter would have upset Alex like this. Rather, Olivia believed that this last, small stress had been the straw that broke the camel's back. Alex had borne everything so well, always putting on a fresh smile and ready to comfort or defend. Olivia wished she could take it all back. She wished with all her heart. But she couldn't. All she could do now was try to move forward. She took her hand from Alex's back and lifted it to caress her cheek. With her other hand, she began to coax Alex's fingers from their death-grip on the sink.

"Come on, darling," she cooed, her heart swelling as Alex turned her head a little. "Let's get out of the bathroom." She stepped back and Alex followed though she was distracted and vaguely unsteady. With great care, Olivia guided her girlfriend to the sofa and let relief wash over as Alex became livelier with every step. By the time she was seated on the sofa, Alex was smiling wearily and holding out her arms for her girlfriend. And though Olivia always loved to be held, she had other plans. She sat at Alex's side and took one of her hands in both of her own.

"I'm so sorry, Alex," she said quietly. Alex began to protest but Olivia hushed her tenderly. "I didn't know that it had gotten this bad. I've been so selfish and I guess that I just didn't want to see what all… this… was doing to you." She paused as tears threatened to overwhelm her. Alex was so sad and so tense. It killed Olivia to see her like this. She was meant to be loved and busy and, well, happy. Olivia wanted a better life than this one for her beloved blonde.

As Olivia made her painful speech, Alex pulled herself from her stupor with great effort. She didn't want to hear this. She didn't want to hear Olivia apologize for the things that had happened to her. No, Alex corrected herself angrily, these things hadn't just happened to her, they had been done to her. Olivia had to live with the consequences and Alex was absolutely willing to live by her side. She was just about to speak, to tell Olivia all of her thoughts, when Olivia reached for her.

Struggling to keep her composure, Olivia knew that, though she had so much more to say, she simply did not have the ability to speak. Instead, on impulse, she threw her arms around Alex's shoulders and pulled her close. Closing her eyes and taking long, slow breaths, she cradled Alex's head against her chest. Suddenly, she was desperate to hold Alex while she could, to keep her safe and soothe her. She knew better than anyone how it took only a minute or a second for everything to fall apart. Right then, she could never have found the words to express these feelings with any sense, but she hoped that her embrace would say what she couldn't.

For a minute, Alex didn't know how to react. Her mind was still full of all the things she had wanted to say for a long time. But she couldn't resist the simple pleasure of being clasped in Olivia's arms and she gradually relaxed heavily against her. She wanted to save Olivia from seeing her break down like she had but, she had to admit to herself, resting in Olivia's embrace was so much more comfortable than crying alone in the bathroom. She shifted into a better position, stretching her legs out along the length of the sofa and laying her head on Olivia's lap. Olivia pressed one hand to Alex's cheek and Alex used her own hand to hold it there. She liked the warmth against her skin. It was comforting and it made her feel suddenly, blissfully calm. She opened her eyes and looked up at Olivia, smiling softly.

Olivia returned her gaze though, in truth, she had never taken her eyes from Alex's face. As she had spoken and then paused and then taken the blonde into her arms, Olivia was glad to watch Alex's expression relax and melt into one of restored serenity. Her tears receded and some of that same serenity calmed her thoughts. She touched her tongue to her lips and swallowed as she centered herself to speak.

"I just… You have to talk to me, Alex. Really. I want you to tell me… before… Goddamnit, Alex," she said, trying to continue but failing as Alex's smile widened and she felt her own smile pull at the corners of her mouth. What she had to say was serious but she couldn't help the urge to laugh that suddenly tickled her. She chuckled and coaxed Alex to sit up a little. Wrapping both of her hands around the back of Alex's head and burying her fingers in her blonde hair, Olivia brought their lips together and kissed her, really kissed her, like she hadn't done since… Consciously, she knew that she was again substituting physical actions for words but, at that moment, she couldn't have cared less. And, as she felt Alex's hands caress her neck and cheek, she knew that everything was alright. Trembling with remembered joy, Olivia ignored all of her nagging thoughts and poured all of her love and emotion into the kiss. She wanted it to be special, one Alex would remember through all the hard times to come when Olivia wouldn't be able to give her comfort or support. While she could, Olivia wanted to give Alex everything she had. She deserved it.


	36. Chapter 36

Alex caressed Olivia's scalp with the palm of her hand as she ran the water massager up and down her girlfriend's body as she soaked in the steamy bathtub. This was one of the only actions that seemed to grant the sick woman any physical comfort. At least it kept her warm, a feat that no amount of heavy clothes could accomplish. It was something.

The blessed days of rest had passed quickly, too quickly for either woman's taste. Too soon, it was time to begin chemotherapy again and disrupt the meager happy routine they had settled into. That wasn't to say that they were unprepared. From the moment they had left the hospital for the first time, they had both known that this day would come and they hadn't wasted an hour. Olivia had done her best to gain weight and strength, eating as well as she could manage and pushing herself even when she was tired. Slowly and surely, her efforts had paid off. She was still only a shell of her former health but she was nearly unrecognizable as the woman in the hospital bed. Though she was thin, her bones no longer stood out quite so dramatically and the color had returned to her cheeks. She smiled and laughed sometimes and even her hair had started to grow back until her head had just the same texture as a peach. Alex had come to love it, smoothing her fingertips over the soft fuzz and she regretted having to lose it all over again. That said, not resuming the treatments was not an option.

For her part, Alex had also worked hard. She had supported Olivia tirelessly, comforting her through bad days and cheering every instance of improvement. Recently, she had invested in a new project. With her parents' help, Alex had endeavored to equip the apartment with every comfort and luxury that would soothe Olivia once the nausea and aches set in. For the most part, these were small items. She stocked the kitchen with stores of ginger ale, crackers, broth and every variety of soup, anything and everything that might prove palatable to an upset stomach. There were fresh sets of pajamas, blankets, movies and books to distract her from how bad she felt. Most important, to Alex at least, were her efforts in the bathroom.

Olivia loved baths. Alex wanted that pleasure to be as accessible as possible for her. She bought a pad for the bottom of the tub to protect Olivia's protruding spine and shoulder blades. Bubbles, oils and salts with calming scents lined the sink's edge and stacks of thick, Egyptian cotton towels balanced on the shelves. Best of all, Alex installed a massaging, detachable showerhead with an absurdly long hose. Maybe this would help with her girlfriend's sore joints and muscles. In any case, it couldn't hurt. None of it could. She had the money and the time and she owed Olivia two years of birthday, anniversary and Christmas presents as well as all the things she would have given her beloved woman for no special reason at all. Not that a cabinet full of soda and canned goods would make up for that, of course. It would have to do for now.

And, at the moment, since Olivia had sunk into the deep, warm water, she seemed quiet and relaxed. It was a marked change from the evening; after the treatment in the morning, they had had a few wonderful hours followed by a few more of moaning and vomiting and then, well, this tenuous calm. Alex kept quiet and almost still but for the motion of her hand with the water massager. She focused her attention completely on Olivia; she knew that, if it came, distress would be quick and most likely violent. She wanted to be ready. She also watched for signs that the bath and the massage were helping at all.

She couldn't tell. Olivia made no movement or sound. Alex just had to suppose that her quietness was a good sign. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than when she was sick or shivering. Still, Alex wished it didn't have to be like this. She missed Olivia's laughter and the deep trust they used to share. She bent down and pressed her lips to the crown of Olivia's head, savoring the warmth and the soft scent of soap. No matter how things had changed, no matter how painful they got, this was still her Olivia, the woman she had fought to return to for two years. The thought sealed her heart and resolve.

Even from her childhood, Alex had never lacked for dogged resolve. No amount of jeering from her older cousins had kept Alex out of the topmost tree branches or made her shy away from catching the slimiest frogs. The three hours she spent with her father in the emergency room with a broken arm never kept her from climbing higher the next time. It was this refusal to quit that had gotten Alex through to her career and to her relationship with her hot-headed, stubborn girlfriend. Nothing had even come easily but she had made it. She would make it through this too. Still, even in this most familiar part of herself, she could feel the change.

Most of her life, she had been Velcro. When she stuck, she stuck as long as she needed to. She had been flexible and versatile, easy to understand and simple in her aims. In Wisconsin, all of that had changed. She had become like ice. Ripped away from everything she knew and loved, she felt herself grow cold and, cornered, she grew dangerous. She hated it and she hated that, with this iciness, came brittleness. At every unexpected knock or phone call, she felt like she might have shattered. By the time Elliot had come for her, she was just a hair's breadth away from lashing out disastrously or just collapsing.

But now she was changing again. The brittle ice was melting away and leaving behind cold steel. It was a kind of strength she had never needed before. Olivia had always been the tougher one. Alex had been able to bend but everyone had a breaking point and, when Alex broke, Olivia had always been there to put her back together. Alex was beginning to understand just the type of strength that required. Now she could sense that same steely toughness hardening inside of her and sharpening into a deadly blade. She could put Olivia back together and she could destroy anyone who tried to stop her. She knew she could do it. All that was left was for Olivia to know it too. And the first step would be rebuilding their trust.

"Come on, sweetheart," Alex said softly, wishing she didn't have to rouse her tired girlfriend. Olivia looked almost peaceful but the water was getting cold and Alex couldn't bear the thought of any more shivering. Olivia spent too much time shuddering like she would never be warm again. Alex wished she could replace the chilly New York spring with the humidity and intense sunshine of some tropical island. For a brief and wonderful instant, the thought made Alex smile. She never had managed to sweep Olivia away from a tropical vacation. She would definitely have to put that on her to-do list as soon as Olivia was ready. Holding onto that lovely image, she helped Olivia stand and closed her eyes, holding out her hands to support her stepping out of the tub.

It broke her heart that Olivia no longer let her look unless it was absolutely necessary. She constantly pulled her sleeves down to her knuckles and she always covered her feet with socks or blankets. Even in the bath, when she let Alex sit with her, Olivia insisted on staying wrapped in a towel. It hurt but Alex didn't push, even when she wanted to.

Letting Olivia lean on her, Alex kept her eyes patiently closed while she handed her girlfriend her pajamas. At least, in this way, she could make Olivia feel safe and comfortable. At last, she opened her eyes and smiled. She squeezed Olivia's hand gently. She wanted to say something or do something, but nothing came to mind. Bed was the next best thing she could think of so she wrapped an arm around her girlfriend's waist and led her out of the bathroom. She wasn't tired but she could see Olivia was. And, after the years she had spent missing this, Alex wasn't about to waste a single chance to hold her sleeping lover.

Olivia sank heavily onto the bed, closing her eyes, not even bothering to pull the covers back. She struggled to drag her eyelids back up. She hated being this tired all of the time. It was like being abused all over again and she resented it. Heaving a sigh, she picked the lotion up off of the bedside table. The chemotherapy made her skin so thin and dry. Even the slightest bump or scratch resulted in a sore that took too long to heal and was, as her doctor so frequently reminded her, a potential source of infection. So she faithfully smeared the lotion onto her body every night. It was the only thing that helped and it had to get done. But she was so tired.

Turning back from her dresser, Alex caught Olivia's eyes falling closed for a second time. Alex gulped as her heart swelled with love and compassion. Olivia had been so vibrant that the sight of a bottle of lotion slowly falling from her hand as she fought to stay awake made Alex's breath catch in her throat. After all of her thoughts of strength and steel and Velcro and everything, she still couldn't keep her calm around Olivia. She ached to scoop the tired woman into her arms and keep her there forever, safe and soothed and warm. She had to grind her teeth to hold herself back; she had too much respect for Olivia to treat her like an infant. But she could still help her.

Keeping everything about herself calm and slow, Alex sank onto the bed and took Olivia's hand in her own. She made her expression as serene and gentle as she could as Olivia opened her eyes. "Here, Liv, let me," she cooed, easing the plastic bottle from her hand. For a split second she froze and had to struggle to maintain her careful gaze. Olivia tightened her grip, her eyes challenging Alex with refusal and even a little fear, before letting go and sinking exhaustedly back onto the pillow. Her eyes fluttered closed and she breathed her assent and Alex breathed with her, a sigh of relief.

Alex slid Olivia's sleeve up above her elbow and smoothed a generous amount of lotion over her skin. She poured all of her attention into the task, rubbing the rich moisturizer into every inch of exposed flesh. Slowly, as she worked, Alex felt her smile morph from shy and careful to one of genuine happiness. This was one of the first times Olivia had let herself be touched so intimately. There were times when Alex had to change bandages or help her dress but those were out of necessity. This was different and Alex treasured it as a gift. She wanted to do it right. For Olivia and for herself.


	37. Chapter 37

"This is harassment. We have no comment. If you call here again, I will report you to the police." Alex dropped the phone back into its cradle with a little more force than was absolutely necessary. Though she maintained her calm composure, she resented that the relentless phone calls from reporters and lookie-loos were starting to get to her. She had no idea of how their numbers had gotten out but when she found out… Grumbling to herself, Alex returned to her sink of dishes and pushed the thought from her mind. Right now, focusing on her irritation and fury wouldn't do her or Olivia any good. She had to stay positive. The jury in Rominov's case had been out all morning. If her prayers were answered, they would come back any time now and send that evil bastard to hell. She was just biding her time until Elliot called.

She turned on the hot water tap and hissed as it stung her hands. She liked the pain. It focused her. It reminded her of the pain Olivia had to endure. It gave fangs to the defenses she had built to protect her crumbling girlfriend. Gritting her teeth, Alex scrubbed furiously at the casserole pan in her hands. She couldn't convict that monster herself but she could make the dishes sparkle. It was better than doing nothing. She turned to put the clean dish in the drying rack but lost her grip on the slippery glass. It smashed on the floor, sending shards skittering into every corner of the small kitchen. "Damnit," she snarled. This was just what she needed. Pressing her lips together to keep her curses to herself, she bent and dug through the cabinet for the dustpan.

Despite her best efforts, as she knelt she felt a sharp pain in her palm. "Son of a bitch!" Of course, because her notion that this day couldn't get any worse was mistaken, there was a long shard of glass embedded in her hand. She pressed a dishtowel to the wound and stood to go to the bathroom for a real bandage but hesitated. Olivia stood in the doorway, clutching the doorjamb with one hand and the front of her robe with the other. Her expression was a mask of utter grief. Instantly, all of Alex's frustration disappeared. "Olivia, what are…"

Olivia stumbled slowly forward, her hands searching for the kitchen counter for support. Alex started to catch her but Olivia brushed her off, catching hold of the blonde's injured hand instead and pulling the bloody towel away. Olivia stared as Alex's blood welled up and pooled in her palm. Her jaw trembled and her knees grew weak. Unbidden, she thought of the last time she had seen Alex's blood. It had been on a cold sidewalk, in the midst of squealing tires and shouting officers. It had taken Alex away from her. Her realization was sudden and unsettling. She couldn't bear it. Her grip on the edge of the counter was white-knuckled but she knew it wasn't doing her any good. Her knees were buckling and she was sinking to the floor.

Alex stared, transfixed at the sight of Olivia gazing so intently at her bleeding hand. Something was very wrong with Olivia but she couldn't summon the strength to break the tenuous silence. It was as if an invisible hand was holding her still, warning her against making the first move. But when she felt Olivia shudder, the stillness was broken and she sprang into action. She kicked away the glass and caught Olivia in her arms, heedless of her smearing blood, and slowly lowered them both to kneel on the floor. She yearned to hold Olivia against her chest and soothe all of her worries and fears away but again the invisible hand stopped her. So she waited.

Very gently, Olivia took a steadying breath and wrapped the tea towel around Alex's hand and folded her fingers over it. Reluctantly, she placed Alex's hand in the blonde's lap and folded her arms around her middle, hugging herself. She tried to look at Alex. She knew Alex was looking at her but she couldn't meet that worried gaze. She picked a spot on the floor and fixed on that instead. It would make saying what she had to say easier. "Alex, I can't do… I can't let you do this any more." The words were choked off as if their meaning tightened a noose around her throat. Alex moved but Olivia stopped her, impulsively grabbing Alex's forearms in desperation and turning her face away in shame.

"No, please… I have to…" She closed her eyes and paused to gather herself. "Alex, I'm ruining your life. Velez is gone and you're safe but… When's the last time you went out? Your parents or the guys shop for us, you never see anyone but me…" She fell silent and tried to withdraw her touch but Alex wouldn't allow it. She took one of Olivia's hands in each of her own and squeezed them tightly.

"Don't say that, Liv. You know I don't mind. I'd…"

"You should!" Olivia's outburst made Alex jump. She had hardly made a sound louder than a murmur since the chemo had begun and Alex was terrified by her sudden vehemence and by her heartbreaking words. "You should mind. You gave up so much to get your freedom back and now… I'm taking it away from you. I… I won't do it. You have to go." She tried to return Alex's grasp but she was weak and her hands shook. She wanted to scream. She was ripping her own heart out but Alex wouldn't listen. Suddenly, she felt sick. She had to get away.

Alex felt stunned. Olivia's words struck her dumb. It was only when she tried to pull her hands away and stand that Alex was able to act. She let Olivia's hands slip through her fingers and moved to rest her palms on either side of her girlfriend's neck. With gentle pressure, she turned Olivia's face up, physically pleading with her to stop staring at the floor. If Olivia was going to push her away, Alex wanted to see her eyes when she did so. She could feel Olivia's trembling jaw and the desperate tension in her shoulders. She had to put a stop to this. "Olivia, I'm not going any where but I want you to tell me why you're so upset. I can't help it…"

"I don't want your help. I don't need you!" She only just managed to blurt out her hateful phrase before she felt the strength go out of her body. She squeezed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to resist her sobs and slowly let her weight fall into Alex's waiting arms. She hated herself. She was killing Alex but she was too selfish to let her go. As always, she wasn't strong enough on her own. Alex had to be the one to save her. Moving gingerly, Alex shifted to hold Olivia more comfortably and completely. It also gave her a chance to collect her thoughts and push back her own tears. Olivia's words had cut her deeply but she had to believe that there was something else going on here. Olivia couldn't have meant what she said.

"Sweetheart, I want you to listen to me for a little while. I know that the last few years have been hard. They've been a nightmare but, if I had to do it again, I would. When I… went away, it killed me but I knew I had to do it. For you. Velez was after me but you could have gotten hurt. You were with me when the car exploded. You were right next to me when his thugs shot me. If their aim had been just a little off, it would have been you. I had to protect you. Because I love you. Do you understand?" Olivia said nothing but she slowly extracted herself from Alex's arms. Her sobs had quieted but tears still wet her cheeks and she wouldn't look at Alex.

"Sweet pea, please look at me. You're my partner. That means that I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me. If our situations were reversed, what would you do?" At this, Alex paused. She wanted to hear the answer from Olivia's own lips. Only then would she know what to do. It hurt that she couldn't convince the sad woman to look at her but, at last, Olivia began to speak.

"I would stay with you." Her voice was so soft Alex nearly couldn't make out the words but that didn't stop her heart from swelling with hope. She had already known the answer but hearing it aloud was powerful. Now she just had to convince Olivia that she deserved the same care. Finally the time was right; she tenderly coaxed Olivia back into her arms and pressed her head to her breast.

"I know you would. I'm just doing what I always knew I would do if the time came. I know that it gets hard sometimes but I don't mind and I don't blame you. I only want you to get better so that we can really live again. Together. I wish it could be different but I can't change it. I love you and I'll always be here for you. I want you know that. Do you believe me?"

Olivia hunched her shoulders, radiating shame and grief though she didn't pull away. "I want to, but…"

Alex tightened her embrace lovingly. She had to make Olivia believe. "Olivia, I want you to say it. I love you."

Her words were soft and ragged but Alex understood. "You love me."

"I won't leave you."

"You won't leave me."

"Whenever you're upset, I want you to remember what you just said. It's the same way I got through Wisconsin. Whenever I thought I'd go crazy, I'd just whisper those words to myself over and over until I could imagine you saying them." Tears of sympathy and understanding pricked at Alex's eyes and she snapped her jaw shut against them. She wouldn't let Olivia see her cry, not like this. She had to change the subject. The phone was ringing again but she ignored it. It was probably just another leech trying to harass Olivia into speaking with them. The noise seemed to reignite the fiery protectiveness that drove her and helped restore strength to her body.

"Come on, pumpkin. Let's go lie down for a while. It'll make both of us feel better." As she spoke, she stood and bent to help Olivia to her feet. Though she managed to stand with some help, Alex could see the exhaustion in every line of her wasted body. The chemo and the stress of Rominov's trial and this emotional outburst had left Olivia drawn and fragile but Alex knew what to do. Looping Olivia's arm around her neck, Alex swept her girlfriend carefully into her arms. Olivia stiffened for a fraction of a second before her tiredness won over her and she relaxed. The sensation of Olivia's cheek against her shoulder made Alex smile with deep relief. Maybe she was really helping. She picked her way across the glass-strewn floor and once again ignored the insistently ringing phone. If it was important, whoever it was could leave a message. Elliot certainly would. She could deal with the rest of the world later. Right now, Olivia was the only person she cared about. Very gently, she set Olivia on their bed just as the answering machine beeped and Elliot's voice blared into the empty kitchen.

"Hey Alex, Olivia. The jury came out. He's guilty on every count. He'll be in Rikers until sentencing on Friday. I'll… I'll stop by later to check on you. Bye." The machine beeped again and Alex turned to Olivia, a wide smile on her face. To her delight, Olivia was also smiling. Despite her wan complexion and red-rimmed eyes, the smile made her look beautiful. Alex loved that smile. Silently, she took one of Olivia's hands and pressed it flat on her chest, over her heart. She wanted to enjoy and remember this moment. All of the people who wanted to hurt them were gone. They were finally free to heal and start to live again.

Olivia raised her free hand and reached for Alex. Overwhelmed, Alex bent down and remained perfectly still as Olivia buried a hand in her hair. She had a million things she wanted to tell her but she didn't dare do anything to disturb Olivia. Alex had the delicious feeling that Olivia was about to take a big step. She was finally looking at her and the grief was almost gone from her expression. She looked at peace. Completely under Olivia's quiet spell, Alex yielded to Olivia's guiding hand and touched her girlfriend's lips with her own. She closed her eyes before tears overwhelmed her. She didn't want to do anything to ruin this moment. It belonged to Olivia.


	38. Chapter 38

Alex murmured a regretful goodbye to her parents and snapped her cell phone shut. Since Velez's death, her mother and father had been unwavering in their support for her and for Olivia. They had attended every hour of Rominov's lengthy trial in Alex's stead, visiting or calling at the end of each day to update their worrying daughter. Some part of Alex wished that she could have been there, to be the one to stare him down and defy him. Another part of her was glad to remain at home. Rominov was a man who fed on the hatred and notoriety he evoked in others, especially women. By not attending, Alex hoped that she had insulted him in the worst way possible: by seeing him as nothing, no more important than a piece of old gum under a subway bench. Olivia was his last victim. He would be sure to know of her survival and to notice her absence.

The thought gave Alex some satisfaction but it didn't change her situation or Olivia's. Rominov was finished but Olivia still had a long way to go and Alex would travel that path with her. So it was that she said goodbye to her parents ruefully. They had been away from their home for several months. It was time for them to go back to Maine and pick up where they had left off. The trial was finished, the media frenzy harassing their daughter would die down soon and Olivia was doing as well as could be expected. Their absence would not hurt their daughter. Besides, their cells would always be on and they were only a day's drive away, ready to pack up and return at their daughter's slightest need. Alex wished them well and kept her regret to herself. They had their lives and she had her own. She was strong and she could care for Olivia on her own.

But that was yet another source of pain for Alex. She was able to care for Olivia's slowly healing body but she felt impotent to do anything more meaningful. Since their wild outburst on the kitchen floor, Olivia had withdrawn completely. Physically, she was compliant in every way. She ate when Alex asked her to, suffered her tiredness and nausea in silence and voiced no opinion or feeling within Alex's earshot. She didn't give eye contact but neither did she avoid it. She didn't smile, frown or express any other emotion. She was flat, in existence, just there. It was as if her soul had just disappeared, leaving her body behind.

Alex wanted to scream at her or shake her until she gave some indication that she was still there. It took all of her self-control to hold back. She wanted to heal Olivia, not hurt or frighten her. But she couldn't stand the silence. She couldn't expect Olivia to ever be the same woman she had been two years ago but she did expect something more than this emotional death. The Olivia she remembered had an indomitable spirit and an irresistible grip on life. Alex couldn't believe that she had changed so much. She refused to believe that Olivia Benson would ever become docile. She just… couldn't.

Gritting her teeth in determination, Alex tossed her phone aside and moved to the sofa. While Alex was speaking with her parents, Olivia had napped on the couch. Or at least she appeared to be napping. Alex could see that she was just breathing and staring at some nondescript spot on the rug. Alex wasn't surprised. That was all she had done since sinking into this depression. But Alex was in pain too, full of sorrow and anguish on her girlfriend's behalf. She had to do something to help her beloved partner.

Very slowly, Alex sank onto the edge of the sofa, perching in the space left by Olivia's curled body. She laid her hand on Olivia's arm and caressed her with her thumb until she had her attention. It took some time but Olivia eventually dragged her gaze from the rug to look up at her girlfriend. More than all others, this was the aspect of Olivia's new behavior that pained Alex the most. Even if her face and body seemed emotionless, her eyes gave Olivia away. Her gaze held nothing but pain and intense sadness. She looked tired, bone-achingly, soul-wrenchingly tired. More than anything, she looked like she needed to cry. Alex set her jaw but kept her expression perfectly gentle. Maybe she would never understand exactly what Olivia was feeling, but she would sure as hell be there for her.

"Did you get any sleep?" It was a silly way to start off but Alex couldn't think of a better way. She had so much she wanted to say and do that it all seemed to catch in her throat and keep her silent. If this inane question was the best she could do, then so be it. The longest journey had to begin with a single step, even if it was a tiny one. Predictably, this small step in Olivia's direction received an equally small response. Olivia only looked away and sighed heavily.

"A little, I guess." There wasn't much Alex could do with such a noncommittal answer so she ignored it and forged ahead. It was no or never. If she hesitated, Alex wasn't at all certain she would ever coax Olivia to come back to her.

She lifted her hand from Olivia's arm and moved it to caress her cheek, smoothing her fingers over the smoothness of her jaw and temple. Olivia turned her head a little further away and closed her eyes. Alex considered her actions. As it was, Alex couldn't read her girlfriend's body language; she had no idea whether her touches were accepted or whether they were only making Olivia's discomfort worse. But some voice inside of her told her to keep at it. At best, maybe Olivia would open up to her. And at worse, Olivia would lash out and push her away. Alex decided she would hope for the best but she could live with the worst. At least it would be a reaction, a sign that the untamable woman Alex loved was still in there somewhere.

Very gradually, Alex intensified her touch. She traced the scars that marred Olivia's jaw and brushed her fingertips across the too-deep hollows of her cheeks. She dragged her hand down the line of Olivia's neck and then followed the path of her protruding collarbone back up to the curve of her shoulder. Her touch was tender but firm, reinforcing her undeniable presence to her shut-off girlfriend. Whatever the result, Alex couldn't let Olivia get away with ignoring her anymore. She'd have to let her in or she'd have to fight back. It was up to her.

Gracefully, without breaking contact, Alex slid from her seat to kneel at Olivia's side. She slipped her free hand between Olivia's cheek and the pillow to coax Olivia to look at her. She almost froze in surprise as she felt wetness against her palm but she kept her composure and tried to hide her rising hope. Olivia was crying. She was quiet and still and didn't open her eyes but the tears were there all the same. On some level, Alex was getting through to her. She hated that Olivia was so heartbroken but she clung to her optimistic thoughts. Tears were better than nothing and maybe, if she kept at it, she could find something better than tears. Overcome, Alex lowered her head and pressed her lips to Olivia's forehead. Olivia was loved and Alex would make her believe it regardless of how black her depression became or how brutally thick the walls around her heart became. Olivia had to be made to believe it because it was true, the one tangible truth Alex had left to cling to.

Keeping her expression careful, even though Olivia wasn't aware of it, Alex took one of her girlfriend's hands and pressed it flat against her chest, just over her heart. This had always soothed Olivia during long nights in the hospital. As soon as her fingers touched Alex's skin, Olivia winced and forced her eyes open. Alex met her gaze with a smile. She could already see a change in her girlfriend's eyes. It was slight but it was there. Some of the dull, dumb pain had turned raw, a very different type of emotion than Alex had seen in a long time. That spark was there, the one Alex had fallen for when she had had her first run-in with her new squad of detectives all those years ago. It was still buried deep but Alex could hear that special something that was uniquely Olivia's screaming and pleading to be let out. Alex pressed Olivia's thin hand even more tightly to her chest and bit back her own emotion so that she could speak.

"You keep that hand there, Olivia," she half-growled in a low, thick voice. "Don't you dare move it. I'm tired of you shutting me out. I need you here with me. So you can talk to me or not, ignore me or not, but I'm going to touch you and look at you and remind you why I love you." Her words came out angry despite her best intentions to be gentle but she couldn't help it. She felt overwhelmed and even her icy control couldn't withstand the force of her emotions. But perhaps it was for the best. Olivia's eyes snapped wide open and a hint of anger creased the corners of her lips. Good, Alex thought, anger was good.

With one hand, Alex flipped on the lamp so that she could see what she was doing as the evening light in the window began to fade. With the other, she pushed the blankets down from Olivia's shoulders to reveal the collarbones above the collar of her blouse. She glanced quickly at Olivia's eyes, registering their sharp awareness and uncertainty before focusing all of her attention on her girlfriend's body. If Olivia allowed it, this would be the first time Alex had the privilege of looking and touching with no other concerns. She had no bandages to change or nausea to soothe away. There were only Olivia's body and Alex's hands and eyes.

Tenderly, she undid button after button of Olivia's pajama blouse, pushing it over her shoulders and helping her to pull her arms free. With some effort, Alex managed to disentangle her girlfriend and toss the top away. Even as she worked, Alex searched for any sign of reluctance or refusal but, to her surprise and glee, she found none. Olivia's face was knit nervously tight but she remained quiet and tensely pliant, replacing her hand over Alex's heart as soon as she was able. Smiling, Alex lifted it away for just a moment, long enough to press the palm to her lips before cradling it again against her body. Olivia was reaching out for her, physically at least, and Alex felt like bursting with joy and gratitude. Certainly they had made forward progress like this before and such steps were always followed by days of backsliding but that never stopped Alex's heart from pounding. She had learned that, no matter how many disappointments she was forced to suffer, some good would eventually come to their doorstep. She just had to wait and work for it.

Alex took her cues from Olivia. During Alex's pause, Olivia's hand had curled into an uneasy fist, clutching a fold of her girlfriend's cotton shirt as if to keep from hiding her nakedness. Firmly, Alex unfolded Olivia's fingers, spreading them once again across her chest. She quickly mimicked the posture, placing her whole hand flat on Olivia's bare flesh so that she could feel every heartbeat. Then she ghosted her palm over Olivia's skin, relishing with painful intensity every second of this tenuous but willingly accepted contact. For just a moment, Alex closed her eyes and retraced her path. Like this, she could hardly feel the scars and the protruding bones. It was almost like old times. But she forced her eyes open again. That was the past and this was the present. She had to touch and love the Olivia she had with her now. With careful concentration, she stroked the long, ragged scars criss-crossing Olivia's chest. Uncomfortably, she imagined what could have caused these horrible marks. A knife, maybe? A whip? Alex shuddered with revulsion. She couldn't think about that now. Olivia would tell her when she was ready; there was no use ruminating about things she couldn't change. Until then, Alex just had to be there for her and accept her, push her when she had to and catch her when she fell. She couldn't speed it up or make it any less painful but she could share the burden. She could help Olivia heal.


	39. Chapter 39

Alex took a long, slow sip of her latte, waggling her eyebrows over the rim of the wide mug as she left her foam mustache in place just long enough to make Olivia chuckle. Swiping it away with the tip of her tongue, she reached across the tiny table to take Olivia's hand and relax into the beautiful afternoon. She turned her attention to the passers-by hurrying by the dozen just inches from their little sidewalk café. Watching them made Alex feel even more delectably lazy than she already did and she closed her eyes and turned her face to the sun, the better to savor the feeling.

It was one of those early Manhattan summer days, just after the last of the spring chill has burnt away but still free of the cloying smog and humidity that would plague the city later in the year. But today the air was fresh and the afternoon sun threw the buildings into brilliant, angular relief. The colors seemed more saturated and the lines straighter, lending the island a grandeur that transcended the crowds of bustlers swarming along sidewalks. It was a magnificent day in a magnificent city and Alex longed for her heart to swell and take it all in. Unwilling to spoil the frozen beauty, Alex shifted only her eyes to look at Olivia.

The sight made Alex relent and break her stillness with a wide grin. Like Alex, Olivia's gaze wandered hungrily over the scenery, drinking it in just as she sipped away at the chocolate milkshake in her hand. Manhattan – Olivia's city – seemed as nourishing to the healing woman as any five-course meal might have been. Maybe it was a trick of the sun's slanting rays, but Alex was convinced that there was healthy color under Olivia's pale skin. And the way her cheeks hollowed with each sip of her treat bespoke the great transition she was undergoing as she changed from a slowly starving woman to one just blushing with vivacity. To Alex, the metamorphosis was more fascinating than the quick business of all the people crammed onto the tiny island and more lovely than the tallest of all the bright buildings. In short, it was the most beautiful and miraculous process she had ever witnessed.

Of course, no amount of tender astonishment on Alex's part could convince her that it couldn't be made more profound with a bit of humor and one of Olivia's smiles. She took another sip of her latte, clearing her throat in a too nonchalant manner and struggling not to laugh at the glance Olivia shot her way.

"Alex, you have a little something on your lip." Olivia's voice was nonplussed but, to Alex's ears, she sounded perfectly willing to play along. Putting on an air of mock fluster, Alex dabbed at her bottom lip with a corner of her napkin. She looked to Olivia for validation and frowned playfully, obviously at a loss to locate the offending froth. Olivia rolled her eyes and Alex bit the corners of her lips. She could keep this up all afternoon if it kept that lively, irritated grin on Olivia's face.

Alex bobbed away, always accidentally out of Olivia's reach and apparently incompetent at taking care of the problem herself. It was becoming more fun than Alex cared to admit, even to herself. But then, humor was the one part of herself Alex generally preferred to hide from the world at large, saving it for her dearest loved ones. In the past, she lavished it on only these cherished few on rare occasions and the way the seemed to understand and bask in the privilege made it special. It was a trait she had learned over a lifetime.

When Alex was still a small girl, her father had believed without a doubt that his beloved daughter would grow up to be a teacher. He saw that brilliant spark of intelligence in her eye and her prowess at climbing automatically to the top of any group of children was well known. She had that special blend of gentle patience and genuine enthusiasm that could convince even the shyest of other children to throw her heart into whatever scheme happened to be Alex's project of the moment. He had, however, been forced to put that dream to rest. Alex's humor abandoned her when she was confronted with pupils who were unwilling to learn. She soon learned to save her wit and patience for those who wanted to hear it.

Alex's mother had harbored secret dreams that Alex might be a nurse. It had been her dream before she had met Alex's father and, as if time simply slipped away from her, Kathleen had soon become a stay-at-home mother with a young daughter to care for. Alex had a capacity for compassion that tempered her quick intelligence and cutting wit. It was an aspect of her personality that Kathleen had worked very hard to cultivate. Whatever type of woman Alex grew up to be, her mother insisted on tolerance and compassion. True to form, Alex learned the lesson. Perhaps she learned it too well. She learned that, in nursing someone, more pain is often the prelude to healing. To Alex, it was a truth that cut too close to her empathetic heart. She could never be a nurse.

So she had become a prosecutor. She couldn't teach victims to live again but she could help make it safe for them to learn. She couldn't heal their wounds but she could give them a shot at justice. Leaving that career behind for the bleak confines of a cubicle had hurt. But, as she now acknowledged, the time away from the heavy subject matter of SVU had reacquainted her with the lighter side of life. She learned to laugh again and to make others laugh. It was something she was glad to bring back to Olivia. They had had their moments in the past but Alex had never felt so at ease as she did now, here in this café at this moment, teasing Olivia with her foamy upper lip. She had never felt so free.

Laughing at Olivia's good natured sighs, Alex finally relented and dabbed the foam away. She turned to drop her napkin on the table and that's when she saw him. Far across the café, staring through the crowds of newspapers and coffee-drinkers, was a man with an untouched cup steaming before him. Coldness chased the mirth from Alex's heart and she quickly turned her attention back to Olivia, fixing the smile on her lips and pushing her coffee away. She didn't want to ruin Olivia's wonderful afternoon with her sudden fear but she did want to get them home. There was something about the way the man was staring at them that sent chills up and down her spine.

"I think I'd like to go home now," she said quietly, praying that her smile would pass for genuine. "What do you say, sweet pea?"

Olivia shot her a questioning glance. She moved to speak but her words were lost in a gasp as a strange touch on her shoulder made her flinch away. As she whipped around to face the strange man, Olivia glimpsed Alex lunging, already half out of her chair. But even as Alex pulled her lips back in a snarl, he jumped back and raised his hands, silently begging for a truce.

"Please, I am sorry." He paused, searching for words. His accent was heavy, Russian or eastern European. Alex held her tongue but did not relax her stance, waiting protectively for him to introduce himself and explain his actions. He licked his lips.

He held out a rumpled scrap of newspaper, shaking it open to show that it was weeks old, an article about the trafficking bust with a grainy photo of Olivia. "You are Olivia Benson?" He focused on Olivia as he spoke but his voice was full of diffidence and he snuck quick, wary glances at Alex. He seemed as uncomfortable about this situation as the two women. Something about his manner allowed Alex to relax but only a little. She continued to eye him carefully as Olivia nodded shallowly.

His expression opened up. "I am Maksym Pavlenko. I am wanting to find you, to say thank you. My daughter, she is Salome, she is…" He closed his eyes, choking up, and then dug in his pockets. He thumbed through his wallet, pulling out a worn photo and studying it before holding it out for Olivia to take. "Your government, they are telling me I am to come and take her home to her mother. This Rominov, this khuj, he killed my Salome." Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he pressed the cloth to his eyes as if he could press the tears back in. While he composed himself, Olivia cradled the tiny picture in her trembling hands.

Salome had been a pretty girl, blonde, with the rosy cheeks and wide-set eyes that were the pride and joy of beautiful country girls. A flash of those eyes, in colors harsher than those of the old photo, appeared in Olivia's terrible memories and she struggled not to drop the picture. Dimly, she sensed Alex return to the seat beside her but she couldn't tear her gaze away from the young girl. Yes, as much as she wished she could forget, she remembered this girl. This girl who was now dead. Shaking, Olivia held the picture out for the stranger to take. She couldn't look any longer.

Alex looked between the two for a moment, searching for something to say or do that would mean something. Her heart went out to Olivia, who bit her lip in the way she always did when something pulled at her heart. Alex felt impotent. With this man, this Maksym Pavlenko, Olivia shared some terrible secret that Alex could never fully understand. With great effort, she kept her silence and folded her hands in her lap. She was an outsider; she had to let Olivia speak and act for herself.

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Olivia gathered her voice. "She's beautiful, Mr. Pavlenko. I… saw her. She was very brave." It was the best thing she could think of. It was the hardest thing she had ever had to say.

"No, no, you call me Max. Please." Very slowly, grimacing against his arthritic joints, Max gripped the edge of the table and knelt at Olivia's feet. He held out his hand. "I may?" Olivia hesitantly placed her hand in his and, as he squeezed it tightly, she smiled sadly.

"Salome, she was a good girl. Very… alive. Her mother, she tells me to say that you should be alive also. She is wanting you to be for your family the same as she was to us. This man is a very bad man. You should not think of him. You are understanding? You will do this?" As Max spoke, Olivia gripped his hands as tightly as she could and fought against the effect his words were having on her. Her emotions were roiling but she refused to cry, not in front of this man who was being so generous to her. She took a deep breath and forced her trembling jaw to relax.

"Max," she breathed. "I will. I… I'm so sorry."

"No, you are not needing to be sorry. You are needing to live. And remember my Salome." Olivia nodded and returned the smile Max gave her with all her heart. She wanted to say something but her voice failed her. There was simply nothing more she could say to convey exactly what this man's – this stranger's – words meant to her. So she smiled and hoped he understood. They stayed that way for a long moment, memorizing every breath and wrinkle and unshed tear. Finally, Max broke the stillness, pulling his handkerchief out once more and then digging deeply in his bulging pocket. Dabbing at his eyes, he held up an enormous camera.

"If you are not minding, I would like to have picture. For my wife." Olivia nodded again and Max struggled to his feet, waving Alex away as she held out her hand for the camera. "No, you will not take. You must be with us."

Alex shook her head, loath to intrude any further into this very private meeting. Face set, Max took Alex's hand and pressed it gently. "You are family, I can see this. You must be with us." Flagging down a waitress, he passed off the camera and pulled up a chair to sit beside Olivia's wheelchair. Alex, at a loss for how to disappear into the background, reluctantly followed suit and moved her seat. As the waitress held the camera up, Alex felt Olivia reach for her hand. Alex took it in both of her own, squeezing as she put on a small smile. The waitress snapped the photograph and caught the Polaroid, setting it aside as Max waved for another. She complied and returned the camera, glancing curiously at the sad trio as she returned to her work.

Max stood, tucking one of the pictures into his wallet and pressing the other into Olivia's hand. He smiled and, for the first time, the smile reached his eyes, making his worn face pleasant and handsome. "Thank you, Olivia Benson, and…" He turned his full attention to Alex.

"I'm Alex, er, Alexandra Cabot. I'm Olivia's…" For one of the first times in her life, Alex stumbled over her relationship with Olivia. She would never lie but she also hated to gamble the poignancy of this moment on Max's tolerance. As she searched for the right word, Max touched her shoulder.

"You love her. I can always know these things. Thank you too, Alexandra Cabot." With a last, lingering glance at Olivia, he said a gentle goodbye and begged off, quickly disappearing into the crowds on the sidewalk. The women watched him go, staring after him until Olivia broke the stunned stillness and picked up the photo. Alex rubbed her girlfriend's fingers as she leaned over her shoulder to see.

It was a lovely image, its beauty enhanced by its simplicity and the emotions it recorded. Alex could hardly bear to look at it but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Olivia's smile. Something about it moved Alex very deeply and she thanked God once again that she wasn't in Max's shoes. She still had Olivia. They were alive, together, and that was the greatest blessing. She pressed her lips to Olivia cheek. With Max's words in her memory, Alex vowed never to miss another opportunity to kiss the love of her life. 


	40. Chapter 40

Olivia fumbled with the buttons of her blouse as she limped through the living room. She wanted out of the shirt that was strangling her, out of the pants and socks and layers of cloth that had been her refuge for so long. She had to get free of the memory of those pretty blue eyes. Those girls had been so young and so frightened. So very young. It wasn't fair that they had died and Olivia had lived. If she could have exchanged her life for the life of just one of those girls, she would have made the deal in a second. Less than a second, in fact, if it weren't for Alex.

Alex was the last and only tie Olivia had to her fight for life. Sometimes, Olivia resented that she had to endure the misery of healing. If Alex hadn't been with her, it would have been so easy to simply submit to her malignant body and pass out of this life. It would have been so simple and painless, so unlike the hell of physical therapy and doctors' offices in which she now lived. There were moments each and every day when Olivia imagined her death, wanted it. Some days, she spent more time contemplating death than she did hoping or thinking of the future. Everyone had to die. Why shouldn't she die sooner rather than later, before life had the opportunity to inflict any fresh torture?

Alex was the reason. She was always the reason. Olivia had gone to Alex's funeral. She had worn black, had shredded tissue after tissue in her hands when no one was looking and dropped the first handful of crumbly dirt into her grave. And, heart-rending as Olivia's sorrow had been, she couldn't imagine how much worse it could have been. All the while, she had known that Alex was alive, even if she had been torn away. If it had truly been Alex's ashes in that unsettlingly small urn… Olivia couldn't conceive of it. That memory, that scarring memory, kept Olivia in the fight. No matter how much Olivia wished to be put out of her anguish, she could never make Alex wear black, not on purpose.

And then Max Pavlenko had come into her life, adding to the heaping guilt and responsibility that was crushing her. Even if she couldn't bring herself to do it, Olivia's thoughts of blessed nothingness had been a black comfort to her. When the pain was too severe or the nightmares too vivid, Olivia could imagine that there would be a time when she would be free of it all. If life never granted her peace, there was always death, inevitable and irreversible. Max had taken away that last bit of solace. Without invitation, he had laid on her shoulders the burden of living life. She could no longer retreat into her dark, quiet place for peace. By showing her that tiny photo, he made Olivia the new focus of his hopes and dreams, the embodiment of at least a tiny part of the daughter he had lost. And now she could feel Salome like an albatross hanging around her neck, strangling her. She had to get free.

Fumbling, Olivia gave up on her buttons and wailed in impotent rage. The tingling wrists and clumsy hands were just one part of her new and fettered existence, yet another example of how life wouldn't let her leave those terrible weeks behind. The therapists had given her exercises to do, foam balls to squeeze, printed puzzles to improve her motor skills. They repeated and repeated that they expected the damage to her nerves to heal, that she just had to give it time. Well, Olivia was tired of giving it time. She just wanted to unbutton her mother-fucking shirt when she felt like it, without worrying whether her hands would obey. It was such a small thing and yet… Olivia slammed her fist against the wall, gritting her teeth in satisfaction at the damaged plaster. She couldn't work buttons but she could still throw a good punch.

Olivia wanted to lash out again but she suddenly felt very tired. Her feet hurt, now her hand hurt, and she still wanted her goddamn shirt off. She let her knees fold under her and sank to sit on the bed, once again bringing her hands to her shirt, preparing to tear it off if need be. But, instead of cloth, her hands met skin. Alex's hands were there, undoing the buttons and tugging the shirt off of her shoulders. As the fresh air cooled her skin, Olivia suddenly craved more. She wanted more sensations. She wanted to feel the sheets against her skin and she wanted the heat of Alex's palms. Without words to support her, Olivia raised her hands and tugged at her girlfriend's collar.

This time, Alex didn't hesitate. She had let Olivia walk away from her and put her fist through the plaster. She wouldn't make the same mistake again. Olivia was inviting her to help; Alex was ready to accept. She slid one strong hand behind Olivia's head, guiding her to lie back on the pillows and coaxing her to relax her fumbling hands. She understood what Olivia wanted and she wouldn't make her ask again. Keeping her eyes on Olivia's dark eyes and tense mouth, Alex quickly shed her shirt and then, at Olivia's pleading look, her slacks. Already, Olivia was struggling with the button of her jeans and Alex stopped her, lifting her girlfriend's hands to her lips. She closed her eyes and pressed kisses to the tips of Olivia's fingers, lingering over each one as if she might never have this privilege again.

Acknowledging her girlfriend's steady staring, Alex opened her eyes and released her hands, watching serenely as Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. Her boldness was wavering but her longing for Alex's touch was not. She just… she felt frozen, uncertain. She wanted so badly to take comfort in Alex's body and sweet gazes but, at the same time, Olivia simply couldn't seem to take that last step. So she bit her lip and hid her new nakedness with her hands, praying that Alex would somehow understand.

Like her girlfriend, Alex, too, was ill at ease and she chastised herself. This was Olivia. They had already been through better and worse together, through sickness and the happy times of health. She always knew what to do to give Olivia comfort just as Olivia understood every tic and twitch of Alex's own body. She just had to go with her instinct and take a chance. Relaxing her expression into a careful, tender smile, Alex reached and opened the clasp of her bra. She held her arms gently out. She'd let Olivia take the next step. "Take it off of me, Liv, if you want to," she murmured.

To Alex's gratification, Olivia only hesitated for a moment before bringing her hands up to caress the blonde's collarbone. Very slowly, with her dark eyes focused somberly on pale skin, Olivia slipped the straps down Alex's arms. She smiled very softly and, pausing only for a breath, touched Alex's breasts with her fingertips. Though her entire body ached for more, she kept her touch feather-light. Alex was beautiful. She was perfect. It was if she had been sculpted in almost translucent china. Olivia couldn't bring herself to risk breaking that fine, pale perfection. Her hands shook.

Her heart full to bursting, Alex allowed Olivia to re-learn the curves of her breasts with hesitant grazing touches before she decided to push her a little further. She curled the fingers of one hand gently against her girlfriend's jaw and grasped one of Olivia's hands with the other, pressing it firmly to the swell of her breast. She let her smile grow a little wider as Olivia followed her encouraging lead. Her guess had been educated but lucky; this was what Olivia had been silently asking for.

With a deep breath, Olivia withdrew her hands. If she would ever be ready, she wanted to begin now. Now or never. She let her eyes fall closed, balling her hands into fists and forcing the fear from her expression. "Please help me," she said quietly, enunciating each syllable with great care.

Alex brushed her fingers along the straps over Olivia's shoulders. "Is this what you want, sweet pea?" Olivia nodded and Alex could see the muscles in her jaw clench nervously. "Alright, Liv. But I want you to open your eyes." Holding her breath, Alex kept perfectly still until Olivia met her gaze. Gently, she worked her hands behind Olivia's back to undo the clasp before easing the bra away from her girlfriend's body. She resisted the urge to look, instead focusing on the nuances of Olivia's expression and searching for traces of panic. Alex was more than willing to do this for her girlfriend and give her all the time in the world to be comfortable. But, as soon as she saw that too familiar look come into Olivia's eyes, Alex would put a stop to it and pull the blankets up. She would not be responsible for frightening Olivia. She just wouldn't.

Schooling her breathing into a steady, calm rhythm, Alex began to explore Olivia's skin with tender, sensitive hands. She could remember so clearly those times so long ago when she adored caressing Olivia just this way and sensing how her tough brunette seemed to simply melt under her hands. This quiet intimacy had, once upon a time, been a source of much needed relief for each of the women. Alex had lost track of the times she had asked Olivia to undress her and kneel over her, to work her strong hands into the tense muscles of Alex's back and shoulders. And Alex had always been willing to return the gesture, lavishing Olivia's smooth skin with her palms and lips. It had always been this way between them. For Alex, it had been all about feeling Olivia's strength plying her tired flesh while Olivia craved the reassuring gentleness of Alex's long, slow caresses. Alex was determined to recreate that confident familiarity for her broken girlfriend.

Soon, Alex felt warm hands at the waistband of her slacks and she paused in her exploration. She used both palms to cup Olivia's chin, turning their exchanged gazes into a tangible bridge between them. "Do you want me to take them off, Olivia?"

Olivia breathed her answer. "Yes."

Alex ran her fingers lingeringly over Olivia's too-prominent cheekbones and nodded very slowly. She eased off of the bed and undid her button, shimmying out of the clinging slacks and leaving them on the carpet with her panties. She planted one knee back onto the mattress and laid her hands over Olivia's hips, watching carefully for permission. Olivia only nodded, her lips trembling, but she kept her eyes open. Alex complied with her silent request, coaxing Olivia's hips up as she slid the loose jeans down her girlfriend's long legs. This time, Alex did allow herself to look and to wish. She saw the edges of terrible scars between Olivia's thighs and wished she could turn time backwards. She looked at Olivia's delicacy and thinness and wished that she could feed and feed her girlfriend until she regained her beautiful fullness. She looked with all of her attention and wished with all her might but nothing changed. She could only touch and love and strengthen her hope for the future. She discarded the last scrap of Olivia's clothing and crawled back onto the bed to lie face to face with her beloved girlfriend.

Finally relaxing into the silence, Alex tucked one of Olivia's hands lovingly against her breasts and reached to press her hand flat against the brunette's shoulder blade. Painstakingly, she drew her hand down the length of Olivia's back, following the slope of her waist and gliding over the curve her hip. She nuzzled their bodies closer together until they were touching as completely as possible, toe to toe, thigh to thigh, breast to breast. As she felt Olivia's arm slip around her waist, Alex replaced her hand on Olivia's shoulder blade and began over again. Very gradually, she could sense the tenseness held taut just beneath Olivia's skin begin to ebb away and she let her eyes close.

Alex brushed her lips against Olivia's forehead, smiling as she felt the telltale prickliness of her girlfriend's lovely hair just beginning to grow back. For just an instant, she squeezed Olivia tightly to her body before resuming her long, slow stroking. Taking a deep breath, she found her voice again. "Oh, Liv, your hair… It's growing. I can't believe it."

Olivia moved in her embrace, nestling her head more comfortably against Alex's chest so that the blonde could feel her breath. She sighed and smiled against Alex's impossibly warm skin. Her thoughts turned to Max and to the chaotic rush of emotions that had overwhelmed her when she had gazed at the pale photograph of that beautiful young girl. Even with her crushing sense of guilt, at this moment, Olivia was indescribably grateful to be alive. She was tired of the pain and shame and, for the first time, she felt the burden start to lighten. She sighed and let Alex's caresses and soft words become her world.


	41. Chapter 41

Lips moving, Alex quickly reread the newspaper ad and committed the information to memory. She wanted her plan to remain a surprise; consulting the paper en route would give it away. The shuffle-thump of a cane on the rug lit up Alex's wary senses and she quickly shoved the telltale paper back into their stack of recycling before Olivia was tipped off. Alex wiped the anticipation from her face and replaced it with bland friendliness. Olivia was a trained detective. Any overt signs of excitement on Alex's part would instantly make Olivia suspicious that this was different from the strolls they took every morning. Alex rose from the dinette, slipped on her sun glasses and gave Olivia a peck on the lips. Olivia smiled and Alex smirked inwardly. So far, so good. Now she just had to get them to Central Park, to the busy greenery across from the carousel, by noon without tipping her hand.

Alex crossed her legs and watched Olivia lingeringly as she limped slowly down the path towards a coffee cart. This was all part of Olivia's self-prescribed therapy. She insisted on at least one outing per day. She insisted on crowded places, on walking despite the pain and on Alex allowing her to do things herself. From the standpoint of Olivia's protector, Alex didn't particularly like this arrangement, especially after a close encounter with a cabbie who honked and screamed at them in a mixture of heavily accented English and Russian curses. Olivia had only just made it to the curb before her tenuous confidence had dissolved into panic. Alex felt responsible; she wanted to keep Olivia secure and happy, to protect her from the world. But, she had to admit to herself, such perfect safety was impossible.

As a lover and a friend, Alex was delighted with Olivia's gradually solidifying assuredness. She had come so far in the months since she flinched away from Alex's hands in the hospital. She could walk short distances through the loudest, business areas of their neighborhood without her calm cracking. She could talk to strangers, even men, without Alex immediately by her side. That was exactly what Olivia was doing now, waiting for the vendor to pour two coffees and smiling. Alex's chest tightened with pride and she grinned. She couldn't help it. Nowadays, a smile on Olivia's face, even a small one, brought a smile to Alex's too.

Though she could have watched Olivia all day, Alex tore her eyes away and glanced at the mild chaos taking place on the little green lawn near her bench. This was the real reason she had escorted Olivia to this part of the park. Catching the eye of a young man wearing a polo emblazoned with the logo of the group organizing this event, she waved him over. A thrill of excitement tingled along her spine. She snuck a sideways look in Olivia's direction. The coffees were on the counter and Olivia was digging for change. Perfect. Alex shook the man's hand and quickly reiterated the request she had made over the phone before grinningly waving him away. It was all going perfectly.

Returning her attention innocently to Olivia, Alex raised her hand and gave her girlfriend a little wave. She waited patiently for Olivia to limp the last few yards before accepting the paper cup carrier and offering her hand to help Olivia sit stiffly in her wheelchair. Settling Olivia in her seat, Alex handed over a coffee and dug in the white paper sack to tear off pieces of pastry for each of them. Coffee and pastry from a cart in Central Park. It was Manhattan's breakfast of champions, a pleasure she and Olivia were rediscovering together. For a few moments, they nibbled and sipped in silence, enjoying the sweet treat and basking in the intense sunlight that lit up the rustling trees.

A child's delighted squeal caught Olivia's attention and she craned her neck to catch a glimpse through the milling crowds. Loops of hysterical giggles made her smile and she spied a cluster of children frantically scratching furry ears and patting curly heads and getting lavish tongue baths for their efforts. Dogs, dozens of dogs, corralled by a motley crew of teens, housewives and retirees in matching blue polo shirts. Olivia chuckled over her coffee as a particularly frisky golden retriever rolled onto his back at the shrill command of an adorable little girl. It was a heart-warming scene, young children frolicking with a whole pack of man's best friends in a leafy park on a bright summer day. It reminded Olivia that, despite the sometimes-overwhelming darkness, there were still good things in the world. It made her survival just that much easier to bear. She reached for Alex's hand, to tell her her thoughts, but jumped when something cold and moist brushed against her wrist. She dug her fingers into Alex's palm reflexively as she whipped around.

All at once, the heartbeat's worth of panic evaporated and she loosened her grip on Alex's hand. A narrow snout snuffled a little way up her loose sleeve before a bright pink tongue darted out to lick her wrist. The smile that had vanished in an instant returned in stages as she reached out to scratch gently at small, floppy ears. She glanced up at the young man holding the leash.

She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to the punch. "Hi, ladies," he said genially. "I saw you watching and I thought you might like to meet some of our dogs." He had two other leashes looped around his fist, a glossy black Laborador and a mix with a wagging tail and copious, tawny curls, but Olivia had eyes only for the butterscotch-colored greyhound who was squirming to sit between her knees. That is, the greyhound who teetered unsteadily on a long leg encased in a white cast. Abandoning her coffee, Olivia leaned down and stroked the sweet dog's shoulders with both hands. She laughed softly.

"What's her name?" she asked.

"Well, she was a racer until she broke her leg. Her name was Bottle Blonde Beauty but we've just been calling her Blondie." Olivia chuckled and cooed to the friendly dog, gasping in pleasure as the hound laid her head on Olivia's knee and looked up into her eyes.

"She sure seems to like you, ma'am."

"She really does, Liv," Alex quipped, scratching the dog's ear with her fingernails. She shifted her gaze to the grinning man, winking conspiratorially. "You're running an adoption drive today, right?"

Her partner in crime nodded. "Yes, we are, ma'am, the Manhattan Humane Society's monthly adoption drive. We bring a few dogs and cats out to the park on the first Saturday of every month to raise awareness, encourage donations and, hopefully, find good homes for a few."

Though Olivia never stopped lavishing attention on her new four-footed friend, Alex could feel her girlfriend's suddenly enlightened gaze boring into her. She knew that the gig was up but she couldn't help playing it out a little longer. She nodded as if this information was a complete surprise to her.

"Really, I didn't know that," she said with mock innocence. "You know, Liv…" Olivia fixed her girlfriend with a sweet but exasperated gaze before she was interrupted by the polite young man.

"I need to get back to the group," he said brightly, "but I'll leave Blondie here with you for a little while." He unhooked the leash from his wrist and passed the end into Olivia's weakly reluctant hand. "I'll be right over there." With a click of his tongue, he gently tugged the other two dogs to follow him back to the waiting crowd of park goers and their children. Olivia watched him go before she again fixed Alex in her fondly accusatory sights.

"You had no idea, huh, Alex? I'll believe that when pigs fly." She spared the dog a longing glance. Blondie had flopped down in the relatively cool shadow cast by the bench and had laid her head on Olivia's foot. Olivia laughed a little sadly at herself. She'd had an inkling that Alex was up to something when she'd suggested this corner of the park but she'd ignored it. Now she was stuck with a dog who was rapidly worming her way into her heart and she had to refuse. She sighed.

"Alex, honey, you know we can't keep her."

"I do?"

"My apartment, I'm not allowed…" Alex interrupted her with a gentle hand on the nape of her neck and a bright, knowing smile.

"I talked to the landlord. You'd be surprised how much he likes having a cop living in his building. So, try again. Why can't we adopt her?"

Olivia spluttered for a moment, peeking at her duplicitous girlfriend out of the corner of her eye and fiddling with the fraying leash in her hands. She tried to come up with another reason but couldn't seem to think of anything. She was distracted by the pleasant weight of the dog's head on her toes and the inexplicable joy she had felt with the smooth fur under her fingertips. Olivia wanted to adopt this lost dog but…

Alex leaned over the wheelchair's armrest to plant a smug smooch on Olivia's cheek. "That's what I thought. So, shall I go and get the paperwork?" Olivia snorted and her lips twitched as she tried unsuccessfully to contain her sudden elation. Alex rubbed the nape of her slyly grinning girlfriend's neck and rose. "It'll just take a minute, sweetheart. You'd better start thinking of good names." Blondie stumbled upright as Alex moved and, even before her hand left Olivia's neck, the brunette was leaning down to coo to the dug and ruffle the fur around her collar. Alex gloated to herself. A few lines of paperwork and it would be a done deal, the end product of a well-meaning and well-laid plan coming to fruition. Damn, I'm good, Alex mused.

As she pushed Olivia's chair along the sidewalk, Alex took the time to enjoy her success. Olivia seemed truly happy, an emotion she had all-to-rarely exhibited in the past months. And the dog? Well, the skinny dog seemed to be completely and instantly attached to Olivia. They were a match made in heaven, the mistress whose body had been wrecked by abuse and chemo and the coldly discarded pooch hobbling joyfully alongside. Alex sighed smilingly and Olivia craned her neck to look up at her.

"So how much of this was a set-up?" Olivia asked wryly.

Alex toyed with the idea of carrying her ploy a little further but then opted to come clean. "I called them. Asked a volunteer to bring over a few dogs for you to meet. I didn't know if you'd like any of them enough to agree to adopt but I had a feeling."

Olivia harrumphed good naturedly and reached out to stroke Blondie's lean back. Alex's characteristic sneakiness made her want to roll her eyes but she was secretly grateful. She had always liked dogs but she had never had the free time to devote to one of her own. And there was something special about this dog, some strange bond she had felt form at the first touch of nose to wrist. "Then you swear that you didn't pick her out?"

Alex chuckled. "I saw her photo on the internet. I read the blurb about her history. And I know how you feel about hard-luck cases. Admit it, Liv, you're like Charlie Brown and his Christmas tree."

That last comment elicited a musical tinkle of laughter and Alex shivered with elation. She paused in her walk to release the chair's handles and rub a palm over Olivia's head, reveling in the luxurious, short hair that had begun to grow back in earnest. She bent and brushed her lips briefly against her hairline but flinched back as Olivia yelped. Alex needn't have worried; the sound was a happy one with no trace of fear or pain. During their short moment of intimacy, Blondie had taken the opportunity to butt in, lapping eagerly at Olivia's hand. Alex threw her head back and laughed out loud. This was a change precipitated by adopting a dog that Alex had failed to foresee. Still chuckling, she grasped the handles and resumed their stroll. Olivia's amused voice floated up to her.

"Hard-luck cases, huh? I think you have me all wrong."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You forgot all about how I feel about skinny, long-legged blondes."


	42. Chapter 42

Keeping her eyes on the road despite her desire to crane her neck in all directions, Alex steered gingerly onto the unpaved lane and slowed to a crawl. Not only was the path bumpy and uneven, but it was July 2nd, a Friday no less, and there were frolicking families already celebrating in almost every front yard. Running down an errant child was not the way Alex wanted to begin their vacation. Hot, stinky breath wafted over Alex's shoulder and she knew that one of her girls was awake. She rolled down one of the Volvo's back windows to allow the antsy hound the chance to pant somewhere else and then reached over to pat Olivia's knee. "Wake up, buttercup. We're almost there."

Olivia squirmed and slowly cracked her eyes open to look out of the window, bleary and disoriented. Alex squeezed her girlfriend's knee and returned her attention to driving, weaving between sedans parked half on the narrow road and scanning for the rust-red mailbox she hadn't seen in more than two years. For some reason known only to her parents, Alex's cabin had not been put up for sale after her death. Upon her return, she had expected it to be long gone but then her father had slipped the keyring into her hand, the one with the little brass lighthouse, and Alex had nearly broken down in tears. More than the folders of bank statements, more than sitting for her driver's license photo, more even than the presence of her girlfriend at her side, that tiny metal key reminded Alex of exactly who she was. Money was anonymous, a driver's license was just the latest in a long series of government-issued IDs, and Olivia, even though she was beginning to really recover, was still a drastically changed woman. But the key, and the cabin it unlocked, was something unchanging and uniquely Alexandra Cabot's.

Finally glimpsing the telltale spot of russet amid the hedges and stately elms, Alex released the breath she had been unconsciously holding and turned into the little driveway. She put the car in park and turned the key, inhaling deeply and then exhaling with a poignant smile. There it was, just as the caretaker had promised over the phone, her tiny cabin, its shutters thrown wide as if in welcome. Aware of Olivia's studying gaze, Alex rattled herself into action. "Well, this is it. Let's get everything inside before the ice packs melt and we have to go grocery shopping all over again." Alex threw the car door open and practically burst into the fresh air and leafy shade. She freed Blondie from the back seat and popped the trunk, grinning as the eager dog skittered awkwardly up the cobblestone path to sniff and explore. She seemed to understand exactly how momentous this occasion was. Alex Cabot was back.

By the time Alex had, with Olivia's limited help, unloaded the car and packed away their groceries, the sun was already gaining momentum along its arc towards the horizon. Alex considered just fixing something quick for dinner but predictably reconsidered. Olivia had painstakingly sliced the vegetables and skewered the chicken the night before, expressly for the grill-out Alex had promised her and Alex never broke a promise. She didn't intend to start now. So, with the fumbling that comes with long-unused skills, Alex started the coals and settled in to wait for them to burn to ashy perfection. The sky was just beginning to take on that special summer evening hue of blue-grey and the coal smoke stood out white against the growing shadows. Soon, the last ray of sunlight would fade away and the stars would blink out, one by one, until the sky was lit like the view from inside a child's colander helmet. She couldn't wait to see it.

The bouncing jingle of metal tags and slow staccato of a cane reached Alex's ears over top of the muffled laughing of children and the overlapping cries of unseen crickets. She turned to greet her snuffling dog with an outstretched hand and her girlfriend with a lazy half smile. "Hey, sweet pea," she murmured, accepting the dewy longneck Olivia pressed into her palm. "So tell me, how do you like my digs?"

Olivia chuckled softly, settling herself into a lawn chair and resting her palm on Blondie's head. "Your digs are very nice, honey. A little more rustic than I anticipated. I always thought of you as kind of a princess." She took a sip of her own beer and sighed. It had been far too long since her last cold one.

"Lots of princesses like to rough it on occasion. Besides, I like to consider myself quite the outdoorswoman. I bet you didn't see me light up those coals just by rubbing two sticks together."

Olivia snorted and picked up the lighter from the patio table, dangling it teasingly in front of Alex's nose. "So, I suppose this was just your plan b, then. Just in case you couldn't find any sticks."

"Of course, nosy Nellie. A princess is always prepared."

Alex rocked back on her heels, swiping her floppy sunhat off of her head to mop the beads of sweat from her forehead with a dirty garden glove. She knew that she had probably left a muddy streak on her face but she didn't care. Mud would wash off but these weeds wouldn't pull themselves. Clearly, her property wasn't in quite the shape the caretaker had described. But, squinting against the bright sunlight and spying Olivia creeping cautiously through the shaggy grass with a brimming glass of lemonade, Alex couldn't decide why she should give a hoot.

Alex had never been one for the homey arts as a young woman. Sure, she had made a few stabs at charcoal cupcakes as a preteen but she had quickly come to the conclusion that she was better suited to the concrete jungle than to hearth and home. For years, she had survived on take-out salads, absentmindedly consumed amidst décor chosen carelessly from a Macy's Home catalog. She had lived in cookie-cutter apartments and considered Central Park to be a bona fide source of fresh air. It had driven her health-conscious mother to distraction but it was the life Alex had built for herself. Her head had simply been too full of perps and dry-cleaning pickups to really give a damn whether her comforter clashed with her drapes.

Wisconsin had changed all of that. She had been thrust, without any real understanding of the implications, into a place where drivers waved instead of honking and grain silos passed for skyscrapers. She suddenly had free time and the energy and brain power to devote to filling it. It had been completely bewildering. For the first time in her life, Alex had had no idea what to do with herself.

Dropped into a seeming vacuum of social diversion, Alex had been forced to figure out how to entertain herself. Almost too paranoid at first to leave her house, Alex had turned to the only aspect of her life over which she could exert any nuance of control: her immediate surroundings. She had logged onto the internet, teaching herself about threadcounts and summer palettes, imported jars of fleur de sel and anodized cookware. Alex was nothing if not a fast and dedicated study and, after a number of comical mishaps, she had created an attractively decorated home and could whip up a tasty, if not gourmet, rendition of beouf bourguignon. And then the winter had begun to melt away and Alex had found herself unexpectedly attracted to the pale green sprouts appearing as if by magic in the damp soil outside her window.

Game to try any hobby to distract her from her anxious ennui, Alex had bought a trowel and a packet of papery bulbs and, though she was inexperienced, managed to produce a lovely garden of crocuses, snow drops and daffodils the following spring. The flowers had stirred mixed emotions for Alex. On the one hand, they were an achievement, the product of elbow grease and tender care, and Alex was proud. On the other, they were a reminder of just how long it had been since she had been called Alex. Their bright petals meant that she had lived in fear for more than a year and all she had to show for it were a few short-lived flowers and an endless list of unanswered questions.

Alex had just finished turning her flower beds over and preparing her beloved bulbs and her assumed persona for the long winter when Elliot had knocked on her door and handed her a ticket back to the crazed anthill she had left behind. Now, far from Emily's life, Alex's mind was full of other worries but she still thought of her flowers. She wondered if they were cared for, if the new residents of her little blue house appreciated how deceptive their apparent delicacy actually was. Thrusting their way into the light, the pale leaves and silky petals seemed too fragile to be real. But one had to take into account the bleakness in which they thrived, how brutal cold leached into the little roots buried in the freshly thawed soil, how winter's leftover gales whipped over the plain to try and shred the tiny leaves. The white, lavender and yellow hues of early spring bulbs were things to be admired and treasured. Just like Olivia.

With a grateful smile, Alex took the offered glass from Olivia's hand and took a long, slow drink. Even cut by the sugar, the lemonade's tartness seemed to wash away the oppressive heat. Pressing the perspiring glass to her cheek, Alex squinted up and her girlfriend and held out her gloved hand. "Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?" Olivia hesitated for a moment and then, smiling, accepted Alex's hand.

As Olivia tightened her grip and struggled to the ground, Alex wanted to look away but forced herself to stay strong. Watching her tough girlfriend have to fight against damaged joints and weakened muscles just for the pleasure of a seat on the grass was an agony for Alex. She almost wished that she could simply close her eyes and have time reversed but she knew where wishes like that ended. One could wish for peace with the noblest intentions and end up dead in the ground; after all, death was the greatest peace, unchangeable and irreversible. Alex preferred to take the slow road in safety rather than wish her life and Olivia's away. She thought of it in just the same way she had approached her flowers; it took work and months of patient waiting but, in the end, the lovely blooms were an ample reward.


	43. Chapter 43

Elliot squeezed behind Maureen's chair, pulling the top drawer as far as he could manage in the tiny kitchenette and rummaging through the utensils. Locating the bottle opener at last, he made quick work of uncapping a pair of icy Buds. Catching Kathleen's eye and winking, he tossed the caps at the little garbage bin and then raised his arms in a gesture of victory. It was a victory, albeit a small one; he was sure that there wasn't sufficient room for him to wedge his bulky body into that corner of the overcrowded nook. With comical drama, he sucked in his stomach in order to slip back around the dinette. Kathleen rolled her eyes at her father's goofy antics and Elliot poked her shoulder, pointedly eyeing the blonde woman at the table. "Remember, Kath, Alex is a lawyer. Don't believe a word she says about me."

Twisting the mirth into a tiny corner of her expression, Alex stared at her accuser over the top of her glasses and solemnly raised her right hand. "I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God." Despite her adolescent impulse to reject any olive branch of humor from her overbearing father, Kathleen giggled. They were on vacation, after all. Perhaps a break from their father-daughter stalemate was acceptable, now that none of her friends would catch her in the act. Sensing that his daughter was offering a holiday ceasefire, Elliot took the opportunity to sneak a quick kiss to the crown of her head before escaping into the little living room amidst a hail of irked squeals and crumpled napkins. A beer in each fist, he skirted the little crowd of Candylanders crouched around the coffee table and nudged open the screen door.

The steamy breeze hit him like a hot towel and he sighed. He tromped the length of the wide screened porch and held out one of his brews. "It's getting too blonde in there," he quipped gently. "I had to escape before someone tried to braid my hair. Besides, I thought you could use a drink." The soft chuckle was audible even over the rattle of the rain on the roof and, despite the humidity, Elliot suddenly felt completely comfortable. That laugh was classic Liv, the gently exasperated sound his partner always made when Elliot laid a terrible joke on her. Careful in the darkness, he delicately stepped over the spindly dog sprawled at his partner's feet and eased himself onto the porch swing.

"Thanks again for having us all up for the fourth. It's no small thing to put up a family of six." Olivia took a sip of her beer and kept looking out at the rain, allowing Elliot to set the swing rocking slowly.

"It's no problem. Just thank God for hammocks and sleeper sofas." She fell silent and Elliot followed her lead, relaxing into the undulating roar of heavy, warm rain beating against shingles, loblollies and fragrant soil. It was a perfect summer storm, bearing promises of fecundity and freshly scrubbed July air, complemented by the overlapping giggles and murmurs of his family and Olivia's enjoying themselves. Most of all, he was simply glad to be spending time with Olivia.

He missed his partner dearly. She hadn't only been an efficient and dedicated partner. She had been his "work wife", his confidant, supporter and bar buddy. No matter if they were in the midst of a spat, Olivia had always watched his six. And then, in the blink of an eye, she had practically vanished from his life. He had somberly accepted that they would never be partners again but that didn't mean that he had given up on their friendship. He broke the stillness by reaching down to stroke the docile hound, aware that the dog's eyes had been warily monitoring him ever since he and his family had tumbled out of their overcrowded minivan. To his gratification, after a moment, Blondie relaxed her tense posture and flopped onto her side, the better to beg for a belly rub.

"Nice dog," he said.

"Yeah." Olivia was quiet but Elliot could detect real pleasure in her voice. He paid attention to the panting dog for a few more moments before straightening and finally looking at Olivia's face in profile.

"How are you doing, Liv?" he asked, gentle but firm. "And if you say 'fine' I'll pack everybody up and drive back tonight."

Olivia sighed heavily, her air of contentment now shadowed by sadness. "I'm… better. I don't know what else to say."

Elliot stretched out a hand, touching his fingertips to her knee and letting them linger there despite her tiny flinch. "It's me, Olivia. Just tell me." She sighed again but seemed to resign herself, slowly turning away from the view to glance at him.

"It's hard, harder than I ever thought. I feel scared all of the time. I feel sick and weak and needy and I hate it." She practically spat her last words but then she took a deep breath and began to pick at the soggy label of her half-finished beer. "I hate it," she whispered.

Matching her calming breath, Elliot squeezed her knee with uncharacteristic tenderness. He hated to hear Olivia talk like this. She didn't deserve to have had her life broken in such a horrific manner but, as Cragen constantly reminded his squad, "You don't get to pick the vic." Olivia had taken that mantra to heart and Elliot owed it to her to accept it and be the friend she needed. The testosterone urged him to take a trip to Rikers with a wad of bills and set up a chance for Rominov to have a taste of his own medicine but he kept a lid on his rage, for her sake. Instead, he remained gentle and let his face ease into a supportive smile. "You know that you can always call me, Liv. Day or night, I'll come and take you out for waffles. Downtown Diner. You can even order poached eggs and I promise not to tease you." In the light from the window, he could see the long shadows cast by her lashes as her eyelids fluttered and she quickly swiped at invisible tears.

"Elliot, do me a favor will you?"

"Anything, Liv. Anything you need."

"Shut up and get me another beer."

As soon as Elliot's broad shoulders disappeared into the living room, Kathleen rolled her eyes at her older sister and reached for another strawberry from the enormous bowl of treats. Gladly hiding from their younger siblings crowing over their gingerbread tokens and conscious of the intimate reunion occurring on the porch, Elliot's two oldest daughters were enjoying sweets and girl-talk with a refreshingly unfamiliar new friend.

They had all met Alex once or twice, visiting their father in the squad room to bring him fresh shirts and packaged dinners, but they had never exchanged more than brief hellos. Now, accepting Alex as an extension of Olivia and safely nestled in the comfort of a woodsy cabin, the older woman changed from a near stranger to a veritable font of information just waiting to be tapped. And the girls were nothing if not precocious and full of questions. There was, however, one question nagging at both young girls and they danced around it like moths around a candle.

"So, um, Ms. C… Alex, can I ask you a question?" Maureen tried to mask her sudden unease by pouring herself a fresh glass of iced tea but Alex caught her surreptitious glance at her sister and her curiosity was instantly piqued. She had a feeling that she already knew the question and decided to let it play out.

"Sure. Shoot."

"Uh… well, I was wondering, um, did you always know that you were a… a…"

"A homosexual?"

Maureen shrugged uncomfortably and Alex smiled encouragingly.

"Not always. I started thinking about it in high school. My friends liked to meet up and discuss boys and I went along with them but I had a feeling that I might be interested in something else." She paused to give the two girls a once over, stifling her humor at the way they were hanging on her every word. She could see that they were practically bursting with curiosity and tried to put them at ease. "You know, I don't mind talking about it. Your dad's outside and your mom is busy with the twins. You might as well ask while they're out of earshot." Kathleen giggled nervously and Maureen bit her lip.

"In church, the priest says that marriage is between men and women and that, uh, homosexuality is a sin. He says… that you'll go to hell." Alex nodded slowly, taking a moment to formulate her answer. These were Elliot's children, not her own, and Alex wanted to be diplomatic. It was Elliot's and Kathy's decision to raise their children in the Catholic church and Alex appreciated that it was their right, regardless about how she felt about the church's intolerant stance.

"Girls, the bible also talks a lot about love. I believe that love is God's gift to us and that He gave us that gift for a reason. I knew that someday I would find someone to love like your mother loves your father. When I met Olivia, it felt like God had reached down and pointed her out for me. I can't believe that God would allow me to love someone so much only to punish me for it. I think He is more generous than we sometimes give him credit for." Cautiously, she reached out and laid her hand over Maureen's. "Does that answer your question?"

Maureen nodded, quick to indicate understanding though Alex judged by the way she kept chewing her lip that she merely wanted to have time to mull the topic over. Alex had once been a teenage girl, though it was a secret she preferred not to share with subordinates, and she knew how they worked. She decided that it was time to give the girls one more opportunity for questions before changing the subject to something lighter. "You know, I'll answer any questions as honestly as I can. Olivia too. It's okay to be curious, I promise." Maureen looked away but Kathleen spoke up.

"What happened to Olivia? Dad won't tell us," she blurted, so brutally earnest that Alex had to resist the urge to flinch.

"Oh," was all she could manage at first, the breath punched out of her by the young girl's blindsiding question. This was an answer she had to give very carefully; the line between reassurance and traumatizing honesty was a thin one. She tried to smile but still nipped at her bottom lip unconsciously. "There was a criminal. He was angry at Olivia and he hurt her. She… She had to go to the hospital." Alex trailed off. She knew her answer was overly simplistic and that the girls would see through her sugar-coating like cellophane. But, even so, she couldn't give them more details. They were still so young. They didn't need images of their father's friend being raped and tortured haunting their thoughts. She opened her mouth to continue, even as her mind drew a blank on what to say next, but she was saved by yet another innocent question.

"Mom said that she had cancer." Alex managed to smile with more feeling. Maybe the girls weren't as naïve as Alex had thought. Maybe they understood that her barebones answer was truly all she could give them. After all, they had grown up with a detective for a father. They had to be accustomed to uncomfortable subjects and unanswerable questions.

"Yes, that's true. The doctors found it while she was in the hospital. It's called lymphoma and it can be cured. The chemotherapy drugs made her feel sick but she's much better now."

"So… she'll be okay?"

"The doctors say that she'll be just fine." Alex let her voice fade into silence for a moment before Maureen suddenly perked up.

"Good. It's hot. Do you want a popsicle?" Alex laughed with unexpected relief. Apparently the weighty conversation was officially over, the girls satisfied and, in typical adolescent fashion, in perpetual pursuit of those treats parents only grudgingly allowed when on vacation.

"No, thank you," she said. "But you two can help yourselves." She waved at the freezer and, freshening her sweating glass of tea, glanced up to find Elliot menacingly mocking her from the doorway.

"Feeding my kids sugar right before bed, Alex? You're worse than Munch and his pudding cups. And you…" He growled pointedly at his daughters as they argued over the last lime popsicle. "You… don't tell your mother." He winked conspiratorially and then shooed them out of the way in order to fish two fresh longnecks from the refrigerator.

Repeating his weaving path around the cramped kitchenette, he made it a point to accidentally bump and nudge his daughters as many times as he could convincingly manage.

"You know, next time you invite us up, do you think you could manage to get a bigger place?"

Alex snorted, somehow managing to maintain a certain dignity despite the vulgar sound. "You know, next time we invite you up, I suggest that you take one for the team and sleep outside."


	44. Chapter 44

America's birthday dawned on the overstuffed little cabin with a powerfully smiling sun that burned through the last of the rain clouds and exposed the washed-out blue of the summer sky. Alex was up to greet it, out in her shorts to water her freshly planted flowers, a pre-emptive strike against any hot afternoon wilting. Dawn was her favorite part of the day. It was her time to be alone and reacquaint herself with how it felt to be just Alex. The restoration of her identity was an indescribable blessing and she took a moment to give thanks amidst the slanting rays and hidden, twittering birds. And the relatively cool breeze wafting off of the ocean made the dawn doubly enjoyable. Soon enough, the air would take on the character of a dishwasher opened by an impatient user, an inescapable cloud of glasses-fogging, skin-prickling heat and humidity.

Recoiling the hose by the porch, Alex slipped out of her sandals and picked her way gingerly through the small, sleeping cabin. Fitting eight people in such a little abode was a miracle of engineering and modern convenience. She congratulated herself on her foresight; installing hammocks on the large, screened porch and outfitting the living room with a sleeper sofa were strokes of genius, if she did say so herself. That said, maneuvering while the sleeping-equipment was deployed still presented a challenge and it was only with the utmost care that Alex avoided stubbing her toe and waking the whole family with a barrage of swearing. But, she made it successfully back into the kitchenette and put on the coffee with relief. So far, so good.

Sinking onto a chair, Alex fanned herself with her hand. So early and already it was getting hot. The day was promising to be a scorcher, the perfect weather for a summer holiday and a day of wading, splashing and sand-castle-making. The previous night's thunderstorm had had Alex worried. If it kept raining, she couldn't imagine how they would entertain four energetic children without the energy-consuming outdoors time. But, the rain had moved on and the day was looking good. She only had to enjoy her coffee and she'd be ready for a memorable Fourth. A shadow passed over the little Formica table top and Alex glanced up, pressing her fingertips to her lips to repress a burst of laughter.

Elliot loomed in the doorway, his normally imposing figure amusingly softened by early-morning discombobulation. He cut a pathetic path across the linoleum and silently groaned his way into a chair, yawning and rubbing a palm over his cropped hair. "Alex, I have two words for you: thicker curtains."

Alex snorted before catching herself and muffling the sound. "My condolences on your disturbed sleep, Elliot. The coffee will be ready in a minute." He nodded in silent gratitude and rested his chin on his hand to wait for the beloved brown brew. It was the only thing that was going to get him through a long day of corralling over-excited children. He only hoped that he could get one cup down his throat before anyone who still had baby teeth woke up. Unfortunately, while the coffee still burbled into the pot, the familiar slap-slap of bare feet hurried towards the kitchen and he stifled a groan. Today, it seemed, he was going to have no luck at all.

Dickie's bright smile popped into the quiet kitchen and he happily skipped around the table to wriggle his way onto his acquiescing father's lap. Elliot quickly pressed a finger to his lips, remind his son to keep his noise level down, and Dickie proceeded in a comically loud whisper. "Hi, Daddy. I want orange juice." Elliot moved to go to the refrigerator but Alex waved him back down and rose to fix the juice herself. It was the least she could do to atone for her amusement about Elliot's sad state. Alex offered the little boy the glass as Elliot reminded his son to mind his manners. "Please and thank you, Alex," Dickie said smilingly, immediately grasping the glass with both hands and taking a long drink.

Alex smiled back and pulled two mugs from the cabinet. Elliot was looking worse by the minute. Without coffee, Alex was almost convinced that he would simply go back to sleep, his squirmy son serving as a makeshift pillow. She thumped the mug in front of him and carried the other mug back to her bedroom.

Nudging Olivia's slack hands aside, Alex settled her hip on the edge of the bed and traced her fingertips from her girlfriend's ear to the point of her chin. Olivia's eyes fluttered and she sighed sedately as Alex smiled down at her. "Good morning, peach pit," she crooned gently. Olivia moved her hand to rest on her girlfriend's knee, urging her to be still while she took a moment to wake up. Finally, she pried her eyes all the way open.

"Sorry to wake you up, Liv, but I'm taking Elliot to go pick up dinner and I didn't want you to wonder." Olivia whispered her acknowledgement, a comfortable, bleary smile on her lips. Alex leaned down and pecked her on the cheek. "Your coffee's here on the table and Dickie's already up." Olivia sighed and Alex gave her a last, encouraging caress before slipping from the room and back to the sunny kitchen. It was time to roust Elliot from his coffee-slurping stupor. She had heavy dinner plans and she was damned if she was going to let available muscle go unused.

Bringing up the rear of their heavily laden caravan, Olivia couldn't help but smile. The amount of stuff required for a simple trip to the beach when children were involved never ceased to amaze her. The relative efficiency with which Kathy and Elliot maintained order and oversaw the transport of that enormous collection of stuff was also amazing and Olivia was more than happy to stay in the back, avoiding direct responsibility and attention. Even Alex had been pressed into service, her arms weighted down with folding chairs and suntan lotion for the short walk from the cabin. Olivia only had to keep an eye on Blondie and, with the dog's custom of sticking close at her side, it was an easy task. At last, they arrived at a perfect spot, spreading out towels to stake out their claim before the beach became crowded with vacationers.

Olivia had to struggle a little on the shifting sand, her feet achy and unsteady and her cane of little use but she made it at last, collapsing gratefully onto the chair Alex set up for her. It was an impossibly hot day and the exertion made her damp and sticky with sweat. Always watchful, Alex pressed an icy bottle of water in to her hand. "You ok, Liv?"

"Yeah," Olivia gasped, pressing the plastic bottle to her cheek before taking a refreshing sip.

"Good. Then you have ten minutes to recover before I expect you to come wading. Time starts now." Winking, Alex pinched her girlfriend's arm and then, mimicking the children, kicked off her thongs and stripped away her sparse clothing. Down to her suit, she enthusiastically took Lizzie's hand at the little girl's excited beckoning and pursued Elliot and Dickie towards the surf. The older girls were already flat on matching towels a little ways away from the family compound, smearing lotion onto gawky, adolescent limbs and gabbing together about school, boys or hair in the way that teenage girls do. In an amazingly short amount of time, only Kathy and Olivia were left to watch over coolers and sand toys. Even Blondie, her cast tightly wrapped in plastic, was already trotting lopsidedly back and forth between the sea foam and her mistress's feet.

"This is a great place, Olivia," Kathy quipped congenially. "I can't think of a better way to spend the holiday." Olivia smiled beneath her sunhat. This vacation was certainly a change. She had honestly never spent real time with Kathy while Elliot was at a distance. Rarely, she had visited their home for get-togethers and, even more rarely, they had come to hers but those events had always been group affairs. Now, with the children and significant others otherwise occupied, there was finally time for Kathy and the woman who had scared the pants off of her to get acquainted.

"Thank you," she murmured. "I can't get over how big the twins are getting. And the girls are beautiful."

"Um-hm, well, they're not so beautiful at home. They're on their best behavior. Puberty's a bitch." Olivia couldn't help but chuckle. She had to admit, she really didn't know Kathy at all. She was unexpectedly and delightfully blunt and glowing with pride despite her good-natured disparagement of her offspring. Olivia liked her.

"I can only imagine." Tail wagging in a blur, Blondie bounced back up the sand to drop a weathered branch onto Olivia's lap. Obliging her devoted pet, Olivia tossed it a little way down the beach and returned her attention to her partner's wife. "I know it's a little late, but I wanted to thank you for the shawl."

"You're welcome. Actually, it served two purposes. Lizzie got her 'Helping Others' badge in Daisy scouts. So, sorry about the color. She was very insistent that you would like hot pink." Kathy rolled her eyes, giving up on smoothing out the beach blanket and rising to take a seat on the other chair. Shading her eyes, she squinted over the water and then cupped her palms around her mouth. "Elliot, not so deep! I swear, that man doesn't know what's good for him." Her last words were an aside to Olivia, making the brunette grin in complicity. This was a topic on which both women could agree. Elliot certainly did have a boyish, reckless streak. Olivia threw the stick again and then stretched her legs out in front of her.

"You are way over dressed. Why don't you take your shoes off? The sand feels great."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Olivia drew her feet back under her chair. "No, I'm fine." Kathy decided to press her. Elliot had told her about Olivia's injuries, how shy she was about the scars and especially how sensitive she was about her feet. He and Kathy wanted to remind her that she was among an understanding, friendly crowd; she had no reason for shame. Kathy had no intention of taking no for an answer.

"Oh, come on. You can see my C-section scar in this suit and my cellulite. It's only fair. Besides, I'm a nurse. You can't scare me." She grinned sideways and, after a moment, Olivia bent to pull off her canvas shoes. Kathy was right; she was longing to enjoy the beach like it should be enjoyed. She nudged the sneakers aside and dug her toes into the hot sand, quickly burying her feet to where it was damp and cool. It felt good. Really good. Blushing though she was already flushed from the heat, Olivia snuck a quick look at Elliot's perfectly relaxed wife. "Better, right?" the blonde joked.

"Yeah. But you lied about the cellulite."

"Thanks, Olivia. And I bet you tell Elliot that his hairline hasn't moved an inch."

For the umpteenth time that afternoon, Olivia allowed Alex to help her roll her loose pant legs up to her knees and lead her down to the surf. With so many pairs of eyes, strange and familiar, around, Olivia felt exposed even with her long sleeves. That said, as hot as the sun was, she couldn't resist the draw of the cooling ocean. Besides, walking in on the beach with a toned, bikini-clad blonde on her arm was an ego trip Olivia was happy to take.

She stepped into the shallow waves, stiffly clutching Alex's hand against the sliding, rushing water and breathed a pleasurable sigh. Blondie trailed along, sniffing under clumps of seaweed and prancing through the surf, favoring her cast in such a way that her gait was highly amusing. Alex bent down quickly and, flashing a wicked grin, scooped up a handful of sea water and splashed her girlfriend. Olivia squeaked indignantly, swatting her impish blonde and rolling her eyes. But, behind her mock irritation, Olivia's heart was overfilled with gladness. They were playing. Alex was teasing her. Even in the ancient history of their relationship, before life had torn them apart, such humor had been a regretfully rare thing. Back then, their jobs had taken much of the lightheartedness out of their lives. More recently, well, they simply hadn't had much opportunity to take delight in life. So, the simple acts of toying and ribbing were momentous for Olivia and Alex. Heedless of whether they were observed, Olivia wrapped her hand around the nape of her girlfriend's neck.

"You have to pay for that," she said before pulling Alex close for a chaste, salty kiss. Alex crowed with taunting laughter.

"I guess I'll have to make sure not to do it again then. Oops!" She splashed Olivia's shirt and, puckering, searched for her kiss only to be brushed off.

"A for effort, Alex." Olivia turned to walk back, her two blondes in tow, and resumed her slow and tenuous stroll. All at once, despite the fun she was having with her girlfriend, Olivia felt very tired. The heat was beginning to get to her, even with the waves lapping at her legs, and her feet were very sore. She wished that she could stay but she knew it was time for a rest. "I'm a little tired, honey," she said gently. "Would you mind if I went back to the house for a little while?"

"Of course not, beach bunny, if you're sure you'll be ok. Do you want me to come with you?" Olivia smiled reassuringly and pressed a kiss to Alex's cheek.

"No, you stay. I'm fine. But if you don't get me for dinner, you won't be so lucky."

Taking a moment to struggle back into her shoes, Olivia took her cane and gratefully let Alex walk her up to the hard-beaten path. With a smile, she shooed her hyper-vigilant girlfriend back towards the water, silently directing her to take Blondie along. Olivia simply did not have the energy to wipe the dog clean before laying down. She felt she barely had enough strength to get herself out of her wet, salty clothing. She dragged herself up the last fifty yards to the cabin and crept inside, padding wearily to the bedroom. She painstakingly changed into a fresh set of loose clothing and collapsed onto the bed, curling on her side atop the neat sheets and closing her eyes in relief. She'd just close her eyes for a little while, she thought, just a little while.

Hefting the big, sleepy boy in her arms, Alex waved at Kathy. "Don't worry, I'll put him down. It's no trouble. I want to check on Liv anyway. You just keep an eye on Elliot. If he burns dinner, he'll be the one picking up pizzas." Kathy relented all too gladly, happy to be relieved of kid-duty for a few moments. Alex turned up the path, lugging her charge with her. If they were going to be able to stay up for the fireworks, the little kids needed to rest from their active afternoon of swimming and running. Kathy had taken Lizzie up to the house an hour earlier and now it was her twin's turn.

Alex dropped a towel onto the couch, setting the little boy down to change him out of his swimming trunks and into a clean pair of shorts. Satisfied that he was sufficiently clean and dry for a nap, Alex shifted him to rest against a throw pillow. He squirmed and frowned but didn't wake and Alex crept away. Cautious not to make unnecessary noise, she peeked into the second bedroom to check on Lizzie and her heart practically stopped.

The covers were wrinkled but the bed was distressingly empty. Lizzie wasn't where she should have been. Thrust into half a panic, Alex dashed into the room, checking behind the bed and yanking open the closet. It didn't take long; the bedroom was sparse and tiny. Lizzie was definitely not there. Heart in her throat, Alex flew across the hall and threw the door to her bedroom open. Her heart sank back to its proper place.

Alex's knees went weak with overwhelming relief. For a moment, she had been sure that she had lost one of her friend's children. But Lizzie was safe and secure, sprawling across the majority of the double bed despite her tiny size. In one hand, she clutched her worn plush rabbit to her chest. The other was buried in the hair on the back of Olivia's head, stroking in the gentle, uncoordinated way that small children can move when half asleep. The sight was terribly darling and Alex smiled as her fright quickly became an irrelevant memory. She leaned against the door frame, intent on etching this sweet scene indelibly in her mind.

Olivia was blissfully asleep, curled on her side, one hand lolling off of the edge of the mattress. She looked peaceful and no sign of the nightmares that had incessantly plagued her sleep appeared on her relaxed features. Lizzie was equally peaceful, completely still but for the motion of her fingers as she rubbed the silky strands. Alex wondered how she had come to move from where her mother had put her but she figured that her question could wait. Instead, she padded softly across the cool floor to her girlfriend's side. Very gently, she moved Olivia's limp hand back onto the mattress. She untucked a corner of the sheets from the bottom of the bed and covered her girlfriend's bare feet. She understood that Olivia would never forgive her if Lizzie woke up and saw her mangled limbs. Olivia stirred sweetly but merely sighed, never opening her eyes. Alex was glad. Despite her efforts to hide her weakness, Olivia was still not strong. She needed to rest.

Practically on tiptoes, Alex snuck out of the little room and closed the door all but a crack. She suddenly felt irrationally full of pride. This was her little house, full of the people she loved, all sleeping happily and in complete comfort. This get-together had been her idea. This success was hers. Full of pleasant satisfaction, Alex took a glass of iced tea from the kitchen, a magazine from the stash on top of the refrigerator and a seat on the porch swing. Kathy, Elliot and the girls would be fine without her for a little while. She wanted a little time in the shade and quiet restoring quiet of her dear cabin.

Kathy strode up the wooden stairs, tying her hair back and readying herself to wake her slumbering twins. They were notorious for being bears immediately after their naps. She could only hope that hot dogs and fireworks would be sufficient enticement to put them in good moods. She reached for the screen door only to have a sudden movement catch her eye. It was Alex, dozing on the porch swing, her head precariously balanced in her hand and bobbing as her body tried to collapse into sleep. She pulled the door open, the squeaking hinges taking care of rousing Alex, a task Kathy didn't particularly want to be responsible for. The blonde blinked, disoriented, and then caught Kathy's eye, her bemused grin only a fraction of a second behind her opening eyes. "Oh, I must have nodded off."

Kathy grinned. "Guess so. Elliot has proclaimed that dinner is ready so I've come to get the twins up." Still a little numb, Alex stretched and rose, following her guest into the cabin. The sun was getting low in the sky, shooting golden beams of warm light through the windows and bathing the little house in amber tones. Her stomach rumbled. It was definitely time for dinner and time to wake Olivia, if she wasn't already up.

Leaving Kathy in the living room to see to Dickie, Alex went to the bedroom. No, Olivia was still fast asleep, her hair still ruffling under Lizzie's touch. Slipping inside, she first crossed to her girlfriend and knelt on the throw rug by the bed. Smiling to clear the last of her drowsiness from her expression, Alex ran her palm over her Olivia's forehead, smoothing the short, gray-speckled hair back from her face. "Wake up, sweet pea," she cooed, tenderly tickling her girlfriend's temple. She wanted to wake the napping woman gently but quickly; Kathy would be there in a moment for her daughter and she figured Olivia wouldn't particularly appreciate waking up to Elliot's wife.

Sure enough, just as Olivia squinted and sat up, Kathy tapped on the open door and poked her head in. Smiling sheepishly, she went to her daughter while Dickie trailed behind, tottering sleepily and clutching his mother's shirttail. "I swear, this girl never sleeps in her own bed." Olivia smiled in confusion, apparently unaware that she was not alone, and reflexively slid her feet off the mattress, quickly hiding them from view as Alex rose from the rug.

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry, I didn't…" Kathy waved carelessly.

"No, no, it's Lizzie's thing. She's a wanderer." She patted her daughter's cheek and the little girl's eyes popped open. "What are you doing, you silly thing," Kathy crooned. "Why did you get into Olivia's bed?"

Lizzie seemed to come back to life instantly, fresher and more alert than her brother who persisted in rubbing his knuckles against his eyes. "She had a bad dream, Mommy. She was scared. I made her feel better."

Olivia's eyes grew round with shame. She had no memory of a nightmare. If she had frightened the innocent little girl, screamed or cried or… But Lizzie seemed happy and unaffected, insisting that she was ready for a fresh dose of treats and fun. She'd apologize to Kathy and Elliot later. Now, Alex was beckoning her to her feet, urging her to come out for dinner before it was overcooked. She obeyed, numb and dismayed. It was all her sleep-muddled brain could manage.


	45. Chapter 45

Perched on the porch steps, Olivia scrubbed her sopping dog dry, crouching defensively as Blondie insisted on shaking, spraying copious droplets of water in all directions. Flicking out the wide, ratty towel, she enveloped the skinny pooch in terry cloth, rubbing and patting every trace of moisture she possibly could while the hose's next victims squealed and cackled with glee.

Dickie and Lizzie looked like soapy sundaes, their sudsy hair sending starkly white rivulets of bubbles over their shoulders. Elliot teased them, squirting one with a cold blast of water while he rubbed soap into the armpits and knee caps of the other. Apparently this was a favorite summer pastime in the Stabler household, the so-called 'Hillbilly bath'. And it was a welcome break from the rigors of bathtime for the two overextended parents. Rather than fighting the bathing ritual, Lizzie and Dickie begged for their hillbilly baths, stripping down to their underpants without strife and doing excited jigs in the front lawn while Elliot uncoiled the garden hose. Blondie's participation made the event even more fun, as the children got to scrub the crusts of salt and sand from the obligingly happy dog. All in all, a good time was being had by everyone involved.

"One down, one to go. You're all done, Lizzie." Elliot swatted his sopping daughter on the rump, propelling her up the path and to the porch where Olivia waited with a fresh towel spread open in her hands. She caught the hurtling child in her outstretched arms, wrapping her up tight and ruffling her long, drippy mane with a corner of the cloth. Lizzie giggled and squirmed, obviously delighted with her antics and basking in her place at the center of Olivia's attention. Being one of four children and the youngest of three girls, she rarely had the undivided devotion of any adult, much less one so new and thus interesting. Gathering her towel around her shoulders like a cape, the wriggled out of Olivia's grasp to climb up onto the stairs and bury her face in her new friend's shirt. Olivia tickled her for a moment before a second pair of little feet pattered over the cobblestones and she shook open yet another fluffy towel.

She repeated the procedure on her latest subject, a task made more chaotic by an extra excited child and snuffling pet curious about all the action. She laughed softly as she worked, tugging the hem of the towel over Dickie's eyes again and again until the little boy burbled with pleased laughter. Both children squeaked as Blondie licked the tender soles of their tiny feet and Olivia struggled to corral the rambunctious trio.

"Well, that's it then. I think that Mommy and I are going to leave you two here with Alex and Olivia. What do you think about that?" Elliot crossed his arms, a bottle of shampoo bulging his jeans pocket, and winked at his partner. Both twins reacted instantly, Dickie shrieking for his father and Lizzie crowing with delight. Elliot slung his son up into his arms, reassuring him that he was only fooling, and drummed his fingers gently on the crown of his daughter's head. "Ok, troops, time for bed. Lizzie's inside tonight and Dickie's out on the porch with Maureen. Now, march!" He set Dickie at the top of the stairs and then extended his hand to his friend. "That means you too, Liv."

Olivia smirked but accepted his hand, letting him help her to her feet. "Aye, aye, sir," she quipped wryly, pausing to give her nosy hound a final stroke before retreating into the cabin. Normally, she slept faithfully on a pad by Olivia's bedside. After a bath, however, she was relegated to the porch. With such a crowd in the hot, little house, the reek of wet dog was decidedly unwelcome. Olivia limped through the living room, saying goodnight to her partner and heading for the relative calm and seclusion of her bedroom. As much as she adored spending time with Elliot's brood, she was looking forward to the peace of a few pages of her novel and the relief of ceasing to worry about showing her scars for a little while.

Letting her upright posture sag a little, Olivia stripped out of her damp clothes and changed into a pair of soft shorts and a t-shirt. That too was a relief; even after the sun had set, the air was still uncomfortably warm. Her fresh clothes were cool and the breeze coming in through the window, tepid as it was, felt nice against her skin. Sighing, she settled herself on the bed, slipping her legs under the cotton bed sheet and plumping a pillow behind her back. She reached for her book but hesitated at a knock on her door.

"Come in," she called softly. Very slowly, the knob turned and the door cracked open. Olivia smiled gently as Lizzie's grinning face peeked in.

"Can I come in?"

Olivia nodded and the little girl forgot her shyness, hurrying across the floor and hopping up onto the mattress. She crawled across the sheets and knelt at Olivia's hip. "Gimme your hands." Bemused at the child's precociousness, Olivia complied and Lizzie pressed the older woman's hands together, palm to palm, with her own little hands completing the steepled arrangement. "Daddy says you have to say your prayers so you won't have bad dreams."

Her smile growing shaky, Olivia pressed her lips tight together and stayed quiet, only nodding to her little teacher. "Ok, Olivia, you say what I say. Dear God, please bless my family." Olivia obeyed and Lizzie continued. "Please bless Alex and Olivia." Again, Olivia repeated the line, replacing her own name with Lizzie's, much to the girl's wriggly delight. "Please give Olivia happy dreams. Amen." Tears pricking at her eyes, Olivia whispered the words and then, on impulse, pulled her partner's darling daughter into a tight hug.

"Thank you very much, Lizzie." She took the moment to center herself before releasing the child. Forcing a smile back onto her face, Olivia held Lizzie's shoulders and looked straight at her. "Honey, when you came in earlier to make me feel better, how did you know that I was having a bad dream?"

"You made the same noises Dickie makes." Crimping up her face, Lizzie aped a breathy moan. Then her sweet smile dawned again. "This is what Mommy does." She touched Olivia's hair, stroking her palm drolly over the short strands. She grinned guilelessly, her innocence obvious and unmarred. Olivia contained her gush of heartfelt reprieve as her guilt lightened. Lizzie had no reason to lie. She must not have said anything.

"Alright, sweetie pie, it's time for bed. I bet your mom is looking for you right now." With a brief, backwards wave, Lizzie skipped off of the mattress and galloped away to find her bed. Olivia watched her go and, as soon as the last wisp of blonde ponytail was out of sight, she pressed her hand to her eyes and allowed the first tears to come. That one last worry, that she had been responsible for frightening a child, was the only black spot on an otherwise perfect day spent playing in the Atlantic, stuffing herself with quahogs and lobster claws, and basking in the oohs and aahs of children admiring fireworks. Now that black mark had been erased, her imagined sin absolved, and she was overwhelmed with a sort of pure contentment. Maybe, with the blessing of a tiny, lisping six-year-old, tonight she would sleep without the cloud of nightmarish memories. Maybe, just maybe, God would listen to her prayers.


	46. Chapter 46

Olivia slid lower in her folding chair, resting her head so that she could stare up into the starry, black sky. She stretched her toes, dividing her attention between the bright constellations and the cool brine caressing her feet. The ocean, with its salty breeze and soothing, muted roar, was restorative, subtly bolstering Olivia's weary spirits and enveloping her in an aura of utter peace. Without even looking, she held out her hand, already knowing that Alex would take it.

Alex mimicked her girlfriend's posture, draping her lanky body over the chair's frame in complete relaxation and reveling in the contrast between the warm air and refreshing water. She twined her fingers with Olivia's, cradling her girlfriend's hand in her own and rubbing her thumb against silky skin. Tilting her head, Alex lovingly eyed Olivia's profile. Cast in deep shadows by the light of the rising moon, Olivia's complexion took on a smooth, silvery tone and her eyes seemed nearly black. The pale light highlighted the grey streaks at Olivia's temples, the ones Alex had so sadly caressed while she had crouched over her darling in the hospital. A shiver of tenderness tickled Alex's spine and she lifted Olivia's slack hand to her lips, nibbling and nuzzling from her knuckles to her wrist. All at once, Alex knew. She had found the perfect moment.

She had hemmed and hawed over her plan for two weeks, keeping her hand in her pocket and smiling to herself, prompting more than one curious look from her girlfriend. Every time, she had reined herself in and postponed her question, deciding that one thing or another wasn't exactly ideal. The right time would come sooner or later and Alex would be ready. After all, she had begun this process nearly three years prior and it had occupied a significant portion of her daydreams. Now, with the moonlight, ocean, breeze and intimacy all fitting together to create a lovely intimacy, Alex was ready to make her daydreams a reality.

Digging in her pocket, Alex took out a tiny velvet box, gripping it in her palm and rubbing her thumb in the way she had done countless times before, suddenly realizing that she had rubbed it almost threadbare. She closed her eyes for the space of a long breath, gathering her thoughts and emotions. The long wait had made Alex almost believe that she would never have this opportunity. Now that the time had come, she was damned if she was going to cry. A second deep breath and she opened her eyes, squeezing her girlfriend's hand to get her attention.

"Olivia," she said softly. Olivia looked over, the shadows shifting across her cheeks, and smiled at Alex's poignant expression.

"No more, Alex, please. If I even look at another scallop, I'll explode." Alex choked on unforeseen humor. She could hardly have imagined a less dignified statement to precede her serious moment. But that was what Alex loved about her girlfriend, her uncanny ability to make her laugh. Once again taking her composure in hand, Alex settled back into her plan.

"Liv, I want to tell you something. I want to tell you about the night I got shot." Alex looked away for a moment, glancing out over the ocean, taking comfort from its seeming endlessness. "I don't remember much, just looking up and seeing your face and the city lights. I didn't feel any pain. But I could see how afraid you were and how the tears were wetting your cheeks. That's when I knew that I had made a terrible mistake. There was something I wanted to do and, before I could do it, I opened my eyes and you were gone. There were strangers all around, doctors and marshals. I just wanted to see you but they told me it was impossible. I was dead." Suddenly overcome, Alex pressed the back of her fist to her lips. Olivia leaned to comfort her but Alex regained her control and put her girlfriend at ease with a smile.

"Getting them to let me say goodbye was a fight but I knew it was something I had to do. But when I saw you there, I couldn't do it. You looked so sad. I knew that I might not come back for a long time. I couldn't ask you to wait that long." Olivia gasped, an inkling of realization dawning on her, and Alex slid from her chair to kneel in the sandy surf at her girlfriend's feet. Unfolding Olivia's hand, she pressed the little box into her girlfriend's shaky palm and gazed up into her dark eyes. "Liv, would you be my wife?"

Eyes never leaving Alex's, Olivia bent down and brushed her fingers behind her girlfriend's ear. She felt speechless, her words stolen by Alex's question, but she knew the blonde was waiting. She had to say it. She smiled against her tears. "I would have waited, Alex. I would have waited forever." Alex brushed a stray tear from her eye and popped the box open, taking out the ring and lifting Olivia's left hand.

"That's a yes, right?" Olivia nodded, fluttering with laughter whisked with tears.

"Yes, Alex. Yes, yes." Alex slid the ring onto her girlfriend's ring finger. It was too loose but Alex didn't care. Weight could be regained, rings resized. Life was what mattered and Olivia had just agreed to be her partner in life. Enfolding Olivia's trembling hand in both of her own, Alex pressed it to her chest and rose up higher on her knees at the brunette's gentle coaxing to receive her kiss. Wetness touched her cheek. She drew back and cupped Olivia's jaw in her palms.

"No tears, sweet pea. We've had too many of those. Only smiles." Olivia hiccupped and bit her lip lest her smile grow too wide to bear.

"Agreed," she whispered, laying one hand over Alex's and extending the other so that she could admire the ring in the moonlight. It sparked subtly, the diamond small enough to satisfy Olivia's modesty but set in an elegant manner. Olivia loved it. Alex had evidently been carrying it around with her all this time. Olivia would have loved a twist-tie, a gumball, the ring from a milk cap, anything that Alex had kept so close to her heart for so long. Olivia stood, pulling her lovely fiancé out of the ebb and flow of the waves.

They had been on uneven footing for months. She wanted Alex off of her knees. They were partners.

Olivia nuzzled her lips and nose against her fiance's throat, sighing with an overpowering and welcome sensation of being at home. She simply couldn't get enough of Alex, her scent of sea salt and soap, her heart-achingly soft skin, her husky voice. She couldn't get enough of this woman, her fiancé. Her embarrassment faded, a memory as dim and all-but-forgotten as a corner of a bathroom cabinet, and Olivia allowed Alex to peel her blouse from her shoulders and toss it aside. For a blessed moment, Olivia felt absolutely free and secure.

With the combined efforts of their fumbling hands, Olivia was soon unclothed, sinking heavily against the pillows and extending her arms to beckon Alex to lie down with her. The last time she had made such an invitation, she had been fighting sobs of frustration and resentment. She had been angry and overwhelmed and needy. For the time being, she pushed those feelings aside and felt herself nearly overwhelmed with sobs of a different nature. She was brimming with joy and thankfulness and the knowledge that she was utterly adored.

Finally, free of her own clothes, Alex gladly joined her fiancé, crawling into her waiting arms. Olivia immediately sought out her lips, combing her fingers through blonde hair damp with ocean mist and drawing her deep into a lingering kiss. Like adventurers finally returning home, Olivia's fingers trailed down Alex's back and over the curve of her hip, remapping the familiar contours of a body she had missed sorely. She stroked and caressed, massaged and traced invisible lines. Alex was gorgeous. Olivia wanted to worship her the way she deserved.

Hands walked over her ribs, tickling and teasing, and Olivia froze for a second. Even in her most confident moments, Olivia didn't allow Alex to touch her intimately. Her breasts were a reminder of how far she had fallen. Swallowing hard, Olivia forced her way through the instant of distress and relaxed her suddenly tense shoulders. This was Alex, a woman who loved her and who gently pleaded for the privilege to touch her. That was Alex's word for it, privilege. Olivia repeated the sentiment to herself and leaned back, closing her eyes but allowing her fiancé full access to her breasts. Her fiancé. Olivia smiled.


	47. Chapter 47

Olivia leaned back, closing her eyes and allowing her fiancé full access to her breasts. Her fiancé. Olivia smiled… and jerked awake. Her eyes snapped open, focusing on the long-shadowed ceiling as the sensations of loving fingers and pervasive warmth vanished like desert sand ahead of a rare thunderstorm. She pressed her knuckles against her teeth, smothering a sob that threatened to choke her. She felt as if she had reached the crest of Mt. Everest, faithfully following in her lovely sherpa's footsteps, only to tumble down the snow-clogged slopes and into the rocky valley below. For one blessed moment, she had owned the whole world and then, just as quickly, she made one misstep and it had all crumbled into a handful of cold sheets and a dully white ceiling.

Through the closed door, Olivia could hear the routine sounds of a family slurping coffee, toasting bagels, stuffing sandy bathing trunks into plastic shopping bags and tucking collections of seashells into tiny backpacks. Elliot's troop was departing soon. Olivia knew that she should get up and see them off but she could hardly even think of moving. More than anything, she wished to close her eyes again and drift back into that perfect dream, the one where Alex slipped a delicate ring onto her finger and Olivia felt safe to say yes. She rolled over, reaching to scratch her pet's ears. Her fingers met only empty space. Heaving a sigh, she flipped the thin covers away from her body. If she couldn't even take comfort from Blondie's warm presence, there really wasn't anything keeping her in bed.

Absentmindedly, Olivia dragged a fresh set of clothes from the dresser and pulled them on. She numbly felt a flush of gratitude for Alex's foresight; she was responsible for the multitude of light, linen slacks and long-sleeved blouses that made up Olivia's vacation wardrobe. Tugging the sleeves down to her wrists, Olivia blinked away two sorrowful tears. The thought of Alex's goodness only reminded her of the painfully fresh and wonderful memories of that dream. Without even meaning to, she stroked her ring finger, unknowingly searching for the ring she knew wasn't there. She yanked her hand away and, whipping around as the bedroom door whispered open, quickly buried it in her tousled hair, flushing guiltily.

"Alex, hi," was all she managed to blurt out.

"Morning, sleepy head. The Stablers are heading to the driveway. I thought you'd like to come and say goodbye." Olivia nodded, patting her hair down and taking a breath to clear her mind. It had only been a dream, nothing more, a good one like she and Lizzie had prayed for. She didn't know why she couldn't seem to shake the gnawing sense of terrible culpability. She did know one thing, however. God was a son-of-a-bitch.

Olivia slowly hung her keys on the hook by the door and clicked the deadbolt. Blondie trotted ahead, disappearing into the living room as her toenails clicked loudly in the otherwise empty apartment. Olivia bit her lip and followed, suitcase in tow. She couldn't believe that it had been nearly three quarters of a year since she had been this alone. A sense of chill familiarity settled over her. This had been her life before and after Alex. She could make it her life again.

Discarding her suitcase at her bedroom door, Olivia retreated to the kitchen to pour water for Blondie and herself. She limped as she went, finally free of the burden of hiding her awkward gait so as not to worry her hawk-like girlfriend. Blondie couldn't care less if her mistress hobbled. Glass in hand, Olivia sank onto the sofa and hefted her feet onto the coffee table, yet another mild act of rebellion against Alex's neat-nik habits. She sipped and rested her cheek in her palm. It had been a tiresome and emotionally wracking day.

Despite putting her cheeriest face forward, Olivia still hadn't managed to fool her sharp blonde. Alex had waited just long enough for Elliot to steer his carload of bubbly, waving children around a curve in the lane before turning to Olivia with concern evident in the crease of her forehead. "Liv, is something bothering you?"

Olivia had only turned away, silently walking back up the cobbled path to the porch swing. She needed a moment to build up her confidence. She needed to sit down. Alex followed, hooked and reeled in by her girlfriend's odd mood, and took a seat. She reached out, expecting Olivia to take her hand, but the quiet brunette hardly seemed to notice. Instead, she caught Alex's gaze and held it, her eyes strangely dark and calm. In the pit of her stomach, Alex knew what was coming and her mind shrieked for her to stop it, to head it off before Olivia could say something that could never be unheard. But, even as she parted her lips, the words disintegrated on her tongue and she remained silent.

"Alex, thank you for doing all of this." Olivia gestured vaguely at the lushly planted lawn. "But I think I need to go home. I need to take some time… to think… alone." As if she was unsure, she glanced away but quickly looked back at her girlfriend. She wasn't unsure. Her heart was just cracking a little bit at the way Alex was biting her lip. Even so, she forced herself to maintain her steady gaze as well as she could. If she expected Alex to understand, then it was her responsibility to be strong.

Alex's eyes shimmered with repressed tears but she did not cry. She only blinked and folded her hands together and, with a long breath, murmured, "Okay." Her voice was low and rough, her enunciation measured. "We can go home tonight." Olivia could see the unspoken question on Alex's face and she bit her own lip.

"Darling, I mean… I love you. I just need some time. I need to… to feel like myself for a little while. Everything changed so fast, you know? It…" Olivia swallowed. Her words were coming too fast, rushed and careless. She needed to slow down. "I love you more than anything, Alex. I want you to know that. I just need to clear my head. Do… do you understand?"

Reaching out, Alex took Olivia's hand, refusing to give her girlfriend the chance to ignore her gesture. She squeezed it. "Yes. No. I don't understand, Liv. I can't. But I trust you. I'll take you home. And I'll… I'll go and visit my parents for a little while. It'll make them happy."

So they had packed their bags, closed the cottage's shutters and undertook the winding drive back to the city in a somber but not uncomfortable silence. Words weren't necessary; Alex's solemn acceptance and Olivia's mixed regret and hope were clearly evident without the addition of phrases that would only sound thin and tired. Alex had dropped Olivia off at the curb, gently offering to walk her up and acceding to her girlfriend's refusal with equal gentleness. She had, though, waited until Olivia had safely let herself in to the building's lobby before pulling back into traffic, seemingly unaware that the brunette and hound watched her departure through the glass. And that is how the day had ended, with Olivia and Blondie tucked away in a too-big apartment while Alex fled the city's lights for a remote corner of Maine and her parents' loving embrace.

Olivia set her glass aside and pressed her fingertips to her eyes until she saw bright kaleidoscopes of color and pain. She slowly collapsed forward, her body bent low over her thighs, and knew that it was safe to cry. Alex's blue eyes were far away now, fixed on the stretch of road leading away from Manhattan and this rapidly dimming apartment. At long last, Olivia was completely and utterly alone. She could scream and rail and hit things until she exhausted herself. She was finally free to mourn her life without the guarding hands of her girlfriend to guide and protect her from herself. Blondie crept close and nuzzled her chin onto Olivia's knee. Olivia quickly reconsidered her assessment. She was free but she wasn't alone. She had this dog to stroke. She had Alex in her heart, if not by her side. She had her friends. And, for as long as she needed it, she had space to think and grieve and re-accustom herself to life. She might be solitary for a little while but she would never be truly alone.


	48. Chapter 48

It took two breaths for Olivia to recognize the difference between the familiar darkness of her bedroom and the terrible blindness that had plagued her just a moment before. On the third breath, the rush of blood roared in her ears and she understood that her heart was pounding with upsetting intensity. Exhaling, Olivia snaked one arm out, her hand creeping over undisturbed sheets in a fruitless search for the mindless comfort of Alex's warm body. Numb and shaking with adrenaline, Olivia sought the tightness of arms secure around her shoulders and soft breath against her neck. But, of course, the blankets were cold and taut. Alex was not there. Olivia's throat tightened and, with yet another labored breath, she clawed her way out from under her own tangled covers. Suddenly, she couldn't stand the feel of wrinkled, sweat-clammy cotton against her skin.

Without conscious thought, Olivia's feet led her from the bedroom. She limped half-blindly through the dark apartment. She went to the kitchen, pausing in the midst of the cool wooden floor and blankly letting her gaze wander over shadowed corners and nooks. Two more steps took her to the cabinet and she tugged it open, digging with one hand until she located the bag of peppermints. She numbly collapsed onto a dinette chair, clumsily unwrapping the cellophane and sliding the sweet candy onto her tongue. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, breathing and focusing on the peppery flavor as she sucked on the treat. The pumping rush making her nerves tingle began to ebb away and a fraction of calmness returned with each passing second. Her fingers trembled against her forehead as her terror receded in steps. She could begin to think again.

A comfortingly familiar jingle and gait distracted her a little and, instead of upsetting her, the sound only helped her to feel calm. It was a relaxing cadence: click, click, click, thump. It was the dog. Her dog. Blondie was Olivia's responsibility, someone who she could care for and from whom she received love. This relationship was satisfying but also served as an uncomfortable mirror to Olivia's relationship with Alex. Like Blondie, Olivia loved Alex unconditionally. However, also like Blondie, Olivia required extensive care and attention. In the past months, Olivia had been thrust into the role of the dog and Alex had tenderly accepted the role of mistress. And it had worked, for a while. But it was unsustainable. Olivia was no dog.

Without opening her eyes, Olivia stretched out her hand and Blondie nuzzled against her palm and wrist, sniffing and pausing for a quick lick before submitting to the late hour. With a wide yawn, the skinny dog slid to the floor, flopping onto her side and cushioning her head on Olivia's foot. The gesture almost made Olivia laugh despite the stress hormones still setting her on edge. She wished it could be that simple. She was tired. She wanted to be able to wake up, roll over to find a fresh spot on her pillow and sink back into sleep. It just didn't seem to work that way. The peppermint, she supposed, would have to do for the moment.

She crunched the last bit of sugar between her teeth and unwrapped a second, breathing in the aromatic chill of mint on her tongue before beginning to suck. This was a trick she had picked up from her roommate at Siena. Crammed with little warning into a tiny room together, Rachel and Olivia had frequently been at odds but the togetherness had imprinted quirks and irritations indelibly into both girls' memories. Rachel was one of those tightly-wound over-achievers that tended to alternate between long bouts of explosive activity and short periods of intense sleep. Secretly Olivia had wondered whether her wild hair was a symptom of her personality. Sometimes, Rachel had commented that Olivia could have used a little more drive herself. It had been a rocky year.

Rachel had been prone to moments of panic, turning little bumps like impending exams or the odd poor grade into full-blown crises. She would flit around the room, clenching and unclenching her fists, shaking her head until her frizzy mop stood on end. Olivia had watched her over the tops of her text books, bemused and amazed that any one girl could possess that type of nervous energy without simply fizzling out. It was after a particularly strenuous midterm that Olivia had learned one of Rachel's strategies for avoiding burnout: gumdrops.

Invested in the vegetarian craze of the time with her typical jittery enthusiasm, Rachel was a self-proclaimed dietary guru. She seemed to exist exclusively on broccoli and brown rice. Her one vice was gumdrops. Her top desk drawer always contained a secret stash of the sugary processed candy. In times of success, they were hidden far in the back, buried under pens and scrap paper. When she was stressed, they migrated to the top of the pile, occasionally making appearances on the desktop itself. But, regardless of any other circumstance, the gumdrops were always present in generous supply. At first, Olivia hadn't understood the draw; she found the jelled, spiced sugar mildly repulsive. She could think of much tastier ways to indulge. But, on that hazy afternoon, she had learned Rachel's motivation.

Bursting in, Rachel's hair had been in a previously undocumented state of unkemptness. Her face was red and tears stood in her eyes. Olivia had braced herself for the usual outburst but, instead, Rachel had only tossed her bag aside and pulled out her desk chair. She opened her desk drawer, withdrew the familiar bright box, shook a candy into her palm and, her eyes closed, popped it into her mouth. The change was instant and shocking. The agitation evaporated and a sense of somber meditation filled the little room. Olivia couldn't help but watch despite the feeling that she was intruding on an intensely private moment. And she had never forgotten the look of absolute peace on her roommate's face. After that year, she had sought to recreate that ability to dispel stress in her own life. After that year, she had stocked her kitchen and purse with peppermints and, later, they had found their way into her desk at the precinct.

But that trick had fallen to the wayside in recent months. Alex had been there. Alex would cuddle her and wrap her in tight embraces and soothe the fright from her body. Alex had taken the place of her solitude and her candy. Olivia had been complacent, constantly looking to Alex for peace and comfort. She had given up her own sense of self and inner strength to allow her girlfriend complete control. Now she wanted those things back. She wanted Alex too but, with her constant and well-intentioned presence, Olivia found it too inviting to fall back into that rut of submission and helplessness. She hoped wholeheartedly that Alex understood. This wasn't about her. This was about Olivia learning to live again.

She sucked on her mint, letting the waves of almost forgotten pleasure and security clear away the terror of her nightmare. It had been a bad one, trapping her in darkness and suffocating cold water. There had been sneering eyes on her and voices ringing with mocking laughter as she drowned. The only mercy had been waking up. She could think of it calmly now, secure in her soft pajamas, a protective dog asleep on her foot and a sweet melting on her tongue and the memories of college and the woman she loved floating high in her thoughts. She was okay. She was sure of that now. It was a minor victory.

Rising, she roused her dog and, after a moment's hesitation, stuffed a handful of the crinkly candies into her pocket. She wasn't ready for bed. She would stop in the living room for some quality time with her sofa and late-night infomercials. This was yet another habit of hers that had been neglected. Alex was a sound sleeper and she expected Olivia to stay with her. Newly alone, Olivia took the opportunity to flop lazily onto the sofa, pulling a throw across her lap and flipping on the television. She popped yet another sweet into her mouth and, at long last, managed a smile. At long last, she felt like herself again. She was Olivia Benson and that meant insomnia, solitude and peppermints. And that was okay.


	49. Chapter 49

The blare of a horn startled Alex and she cursed, jerking the wheel of her sedan. Damn, her heart was pounding but even that couldn't seem to keep her eyelids from making another stab at closing. She flipped on her blinker, cautiously navigating a perilous path between aggressive minivans to the right lane. It wasn't late but it was clearly time for her to take a coffee break. The day had been a long one, the majority spent on I-95 and its varied tributaries as she drove to drop her girlfriend off at her door and then turned back north. She had made reasonably good time; the sun was sinking but she had already completed the hair-raising circuit around Boston and was gearing up for the nearly straight shot up through New Hampshire and into Maine, final destination Bangor. It was a good time to make a pit stop for gas and cheap, gritty caffeine.

She edged her sedan out of traffic, following the green arrows and bumping into a parking lot. There was a gas station, already brightly lit as if God himself was directing Alex into its welcoming embrace with a fluorescent finger. She flipped the key, jamming the key ring into her pocket as strode across the grimy asphalt. Mixing a generous helping of the disgusting powdered creamer into her cup of watery, burnt coffee, Alex slid two dollar bills across the counter with a careless wave. She was too distracted to deal with dimes and pennies.

Weaving between the bustling mixture of truck drivers and road-trippers, Alex gratefully took a seat in one of the nondescript orange booths that were ubiquitously wedged in the corners of New England gas stations. This one was memorable only in that it was overshadowed by an enormous and luridly green display featuring The Hulk. Alex had no idea what it was intentioned to hawk at the customers but she did find the cartoon's staring eyes to be both humorous and a little unsettling. She raised her hand to the side of her eyes, blocking it from view as she dug her cell phone from her purse. After Olivia's quite announcement and her own hurried solution, Alex hadn't even thought of the fact that she might need to inform her parents of her impending arrival. She did have a key, courtesy of her father, and a standing invitation but she supposed that a quick call was only polite.

"Hi, Mom, it's Alex." She paused while her mother spoke to someone Alex couldn't here, nodding through Kathleen's urgings to stay on the line while she found a quiet place to talk. "Um, am I interrupting something?"

"No, no, honey. Your dad and I are at the Sullivans'. We're just having some drinks on the porch. Where are you? It sounds busy."

"Well, you're going to laugh. I'm at a Stop-n-Go north of Boston. I'm… coming up to Maine."

"That's wonderful, dear. I'll send your father over to the house to leave the door open, just in case we're not back. Or you could come over here if the house is dark. I know that Mark and Sandra would be happy to see you. Is Olivia with you?"

"Um… no. I'm alone." There was a long pause. Alex could practically hear the gears in her mother's mind churning over the unintelligible background hum of her social gathering.

"Well, you know you're welcome to stay as long as you want, Alexandra. Why don't you give us a call when you get close? I'll shake you up a martini just the way you like it. You know, two olives and just wave the vermouth near the glass."

"That sounds great, Mom. I'll see you in a few hours." Her mother said goodbye and Alex could hear the beginning of her shout to her father before the line went silent. She clipped the phone shut and took a long sip of her rapidly cooling coffee. Again The Hulk's grotesque expression caught her attention and Alex wrinkled her nose, pivoting in her seat to face the dingy white wall. She wished she could move the display but it looked heavy and she didn't feel like undertaking the hassle. Most of all she wanted to get back on the road but first she needed at least a cup of coffee eating away at the lining of her stomach before she would feel safe to drive. And there was one more call she had to make. She punched in the number and listened to the raspy ringing as she forced another gulp of acrid coffee down her throat.

"Elliot, it's Alex. Did you get home okay?"

"Yeah. Lizzie cried almost the whole drive. She wants you and Olivia to adopt her so she can live by the beach." He paused. "Thanks for asking but I get the feeling that my driving isn't the reason you called."

"Your astuteness never fails to astound me, Detective. You're right. I'm on my way up to Maine right now. Olivia's staying behind in the city. I just wanted you… to know." She finished her statement lamely, her momentum dissipating too quickly for her to think of something more complete.

Elliot made that odd sound he always made when he was thinking, sort of a cross between a grunt and a groan, soft, gravelly and brief. Alex knew that her pathetic statement had said much more than she had really intended. She was full of gratitude and resentment. She really just wanted Elliot to keep an eye out for his friend while she was alone. She didn't need him asking prying questions or making assumptions. Even so, when he gently asked her if something was wrong, the emotions and words spilled from her lips without input from her resistant mind.

"She told me to take her home, that she needed some time alone. What was I supposed to say? She didn't ask me to come back for her. I was the one who left in the first place. I'm driving to my parents' house. I just… I need to know she'll be okay. She asked me not to call. She… I need… Just, check on her, will you, Elliot?" Her thoughts finally caught up to her racing mouth and clamped off her erratic outburst, again winding up her statement with a less-than-eloquent blurt. She wanted to slap herself. She wanted to slap Olivia, to slap some sense into her. But the urge was an impotent one. She'd call the cops on herself before she laid a hand on her girlfriend. Shaking herself back in line, she gripped the phone and forced her attention on Elliot's voice.

"Yeah, sure, Alex. I'll give her a call, no problem. I'm sure she'll be fine. You know that this is just Liv. She pushes people away. But she's crazy about you. She'll get over her bull shit in no time and she'll come crawling back. Just be patient."

"Um, thanks, Elliot. I should get going. I'll… I'll talk to you later." She didn't even wait for his goodbye before she slid the phone into her purse. She knew he couldn't see the blotchy flush that was rising on her neck but she felt humiliated anyway. She gripped her cardboard cup, bringing it to her lips and draining it in one burning gulp. It made her stomach turn but she didn't care. She needed to get back behind the wheel. She needed to pay for a tank of gasoline and ask for the bulky key for the bathroom and empty her bladder while crouching over a filthy and overused toilet seat. She stood and came face to face with the ugly, green ogre. Frustration tightening her veins, Alex drew her foot back and kicked the base of the display. It didn't shift but the shelves' contents rattled and the pain in her toe was marginally satisfied. She wanted to do it again but she could feel the silent stares of strangers grazing her body. She gritted her teeth and crushed her empty cup, flinging it angrily at the garbage can.

As she stalked through the glaringly lit aisles, her irritation turned into a grim grin. At least she wasn't sleepy any more, she chuckled to herself. And she didn't think that the habitually aggressive New England traffic would be able to hold a candle to her own sudden aggression. She was a woman on the cusp of having it all or losing everything. Again. She had a beautiful girlfriend who loved her but pushed her away. She had a family in the far north that had already buried her and were now welcoming her back from the grave. She had a belly full of blistering, acidic sludge and a trunk full of expensive clothes that needed a good washing to remove the salt and dried sweat from their seams. Never in her most exotic fantasies had Alex imagined that this was how her life would turn out. She had expected white picket fences and tall shady trees, nine-to-five workdays and family vacation. She got threatened and shot, mutual love and bereavement, relocation to a winter wasteland and a one-way ticket back to America's most famous city. She got a cup of poorly brewed coffee in a questionable truck stop on a humid summer evening, guzzled under the watchful gaze of a vaguely threatening cartoon hero. She took the receipt from the pump, crawled into her car and tossed the crumpled scrap onto the passenger seat. At least she had a destination for the time being, a port where she could rest from her chaotic life and regroup. She put her Volvo in gear and pulled into the shadowy traffic.


	50. Chapter 50

One hand braced on the edge of the washer, Olivia scooped her clothes from her open suitcase directly into the appliance's waiting maw. She had been too tired and distracted to immediately unpack the night before and Alex's bloodhound nose hadn't been present to sniff her out. She had figured that the clothes were already stiff with dried ocean spray and greasy sunscreen. One night in the suitcase couldn't make the mess any worse. Grimacing, Olivia revised her opinion as the unmistakable odor of unwashed socks made her eyes tear up. Maybe Alex's nagging had some basis in reality after all. No matter. Blondie seemed to be having a great time anyway, snuffling at the new smells with the enthusiasm of an archaeologist on a dinosaur graveyard. Olivia shooed her dog away, corralling the last elusive handful of underwear and flinging it contentedly into the washer. Between her two blondes, Olivia figured that she had found true love: someone who adored her stinky laundry and someone who cared enough to stock up on her preferred detergent.

Alex sank into a plush canvas sofa, sipping at the chilly martini her father had pressed into her hand and rubbing her eyes. Even without looking, she knew that the bowls of kale snacks and carob-covered sunflower seeds were being nudged nearer and nearer her elbow. As unique as Alex's mother was in her healthy eating craze, she was still a mother and all mothers seem to have an inborn drive to feed their children. Even if the children begged them to cease and desist. Even if the children were grown, high-powered, semi-public figures in New York City. Alex reached for a crunchy, green morsel, relenting in the face of her mother's loving attentions. She would have preferred saltines or another equally bland carbohydrate to soak up the coffee-inspired acid in her stomach that she was preparing to worsen with distilled spirits. But the kale snacks would be better than nothing and, if eating would satisfy her mother, so be it.

"How was your drive, honey?" Her father, still rosily tipsy from visiting his friends, swaggered onto the porch with a martini for himself and a glass of the organic chardonnay Kathleen favored. He patted his daughter's head, tousling her hair as if she were still a tot, and flopped onto a wicker chair with an almost silly grin. Alex grunted her response. Traffic on I-95 was common knowledge. Besides, when he drank, Bill lost the last vestiges of his already thin subtlety; he was obviously bursting with curiosity about a certain brunette's notable absence and his daughter's reticence. Eying Alex, he leaned forward and dug his hand into the bowl, tossing a handful of green crisps into his mouth and crunching with relish. Kathleen glanced imperiously at the crumbs on her husband's shirt and sipped her wine with pointed delicacy.

Directing Alex's attention away from her amusingly sloppy father, Kathleen touched her daughter's knee. "I'm so happy you could come up to visit so soon, dear. I figured we wouldn't get to see you until we came down. You know that we're planning to drive down in September, right?" Alex nodded, unwilling to break her silence about a touchy topic until pressed. "Well, then, I hope you brought something nice. We found the loveliest restaurant last week and I'm just dying to take you there." Some of the tension began to slough away from Alex's tense shoulders as her mother prattled blithely on, recapping the menu and décor, and her father attempted to devour the snacks singlehandedly. This unplanned trip was turning out to be a surprisingly positive experience. She could just slide lower on the sofa and enjoy her drink and the July breeze, secure in the circle of her family's familiar love. She had no responsibilities or stresses more severe than fending off her mother's impromptu lectures on the powers of properly placed crystals. She could handle that.

Setting aside the leftover stack of unopened mail, Olivia rose to answer the washer's buzzer. It was funny how, day to day, the mail never seemed terribly abundant but, go on the shortest of vacations and she always returned to find her mailbox stuffed to the brim. It was as if her mailman, sensing her absence, snuck in all of the junk mail he didn't feel like carrying over his whole route. Really, how else could she explain the abundance of Bed, Bath and Beyond coupons suddenly appearing in a box she knew had been empty when she left. She shook the snarls out of wet sleeves and pant legs as she dropped the items into the dryer. Scrabbling at the bottom of the washer, she snagged a last tangle of socks and a shirt and jumped as something undeniably solid thumped against metal.

Heedless of the wrinkled mess, she tossed the clothing at the dryer as all of the blood seemed to rush to her burning ears. She knew what she saw but she had to retrieve it before it would be real. Fingers trembling, Olivia picked the little black box with only her thumb and forefinger as if she could pretend that it was just a piece of lint or a damp, crumpled receipt. Of course, it wasn't. It was a jewelry box, the kind one gets when purchasing a gift at a jeweler's. Pressing one hand flat to her chest to calm her fluttering heart, Olivia cradled the soggy box in her palm and rubbed her finger over clammy velvet. It looked just like it had in her dream, in that perfect and imaginary moment when Alex had held it out to her and she had said yes without hesitation. Even as damp and battered as it was, she could still feel the bare patches under her thumb where the fuzz had been worn away. Just like in her dream.

Teetering on legs made numb by catastrophic surges of emotion, Olivia leaned heavily on the coldly reliable washing machine and clamped her lips together. Alex must have slipped it into her suitcase before they left the cabin. She was sure that it hadn't been accidentally misplaced. Alex had managed to carry it through relocation by U.S. Marshals when all possessions, physical and otherwise, were left behind. She must have intended for Olivia to find it. Steeling her suddenly trembling spirit, Olivia flipped the box open and let the sight sweep her breath away.

The ring sparkled amidst the sodden remains of its packaging, shockingly tiny and delicate for an object that could inspire such squalls of joy and sorrow. Hardly daring, Olivia stretched out one finger and grazed the cold metal. Her lip shook with an impending sob and then, with no warning, a peal of wild laughter ripped from her throat. Alex had hidden the ring for Olivia to find and Olivia… well, she had laundered it along with her rancid beach clothes. The absurdity of the situation overwhelmed her and she almost dropped the precious package. She couldn't help but picture Alex's sardonic blue gaze. Maybe if she had taken the time to sort her whites and colors properly, she could have avoided this. By God, she would never huff and ignore Alex's quirky reminders again. She had learned her lesson.

Prickles of hot self-consciousness mingled with the pleasant warmth of her vodka flush and Alex folded a little in her seat. She set her glass aside, suddenly unsure of whether her hands would be able to hold it steady. As much as she had hoped to avoid it, her father had finally asked about Olivia, blurting it out between sips, much to her more tactful mother's chagrin. She couldn't put her finger on why talking about this was so difficult. She was an adult, damn it. That said, she couldn't help feeling a little like she had in junior high after a cute boy subbed her at a school dance. It was the carefully tender way her parents were hovering around her, she supposed. She swallowed to clear the slight fog of alcohol from her thoughts.

"Olivia asked for some time, that's all," she managed. "I mean… you know… she's been through a lot." Even though she knew better, Alex chose to blame the pathetic statement on booze and road fatigue. She couldn't stand the way Olivia's request for distance seemed to make her stumble on the simplest of statements. That awkwardness was Emily, not Alex, and she was determined to make Emily a memory. As she began to grit her teeth, she felt the cushions sink as her mother slid to comfort her daughter.

"Oh, Alexandra, just tell me. Did something happen?"

"I don't know. She woke up and something was wrong. She wouldn't talk about it. She just asked to be left alone for a while. So I came here. I… I didn't want to be alone." And suddenly it was all spilling out, the pressure Olivia's sickness and nightmares put on her shoulders, the shocks of reassuming her old life after so long, the way her love for her girlfriend hadn't changed even though Olivia had. She was helpless to stop it. She was like a bicycle tire: the right amount of pressure and she could function beautifully. But, keep pumping and eventually she would explode. It wasn't pretty.

Warm, heavy arms settled around her body and she leaned against their steadying presence. These were her parents. They had to love her even if she wasn't pretty. It was their job. She choked as sobs and words crossed in her chest and she gave up on her story. Instead, she just melted into the embrace and sniffled like a child with a skinned knee. She didn't know if her parents could kiss this hurt all better but she could let them try.


	51. Chapter 51

"Son of a bitch!" Olivia injected all of the frustration of her day into the curse, dropping the hot pan into the sink and instinctively sticking her burnt finger into her mouth to soothe the sting. It was the last straw. All day she had been fucking things up, struggling to force the buttons of her blouse through tight button holes, dropping her house keys in the hall not once but twice, fumbling with change for a Coke. And the day had begun with Olivia's spirits high and her determination set. However, when you're at the top, there's no other place to go but down.

Her plan had been going so well. Yes, she missed Alex. Yes, she felt a pang of loss whenever she woke in the night and remembered that she slept alone. But she had also almost begun to feel like herself again, like she did indeed have the ability to take care of herself. The feeling was regrettably short lived. She had woken early, enjoying her coffee while the east-facing windows of her apartment glowed yellow with the rising summer sun. Normally, this was Alex's private time; Olivia preferred to sleep far into the morning when she had the opportunity. But she had been drawn to the bright light, promising as it was of the things she would accomplish before it was again time for bed. It would take only a few hours for Olivia to deem the sunlight a liar and wish the morning had been cloudy.

Getting dressed was a rocky affair. Olivia brushed the difficulty off, deciding that it was simply one of those instances when her hands refused to cooperate with her demands for proper dexterity. It happened occasionally, just one more of the new issues her body had been dealt. She had learned to deal with it, biting back her frustration and attacking her tasks with tenacity. Eventually, the buttons would get buttoned, the shoelaces would get tied, the mascara would be applied. In the grand scheme of things, she told herself, a few extra minutes were not an exorbitant price. Soon enough, she was out the door, cane in hand, and on her way.

With only occasional glances at the sea crashing against the rocks below the path, Alex let her body and mind sink into the dull rhythm of her feet against the dewy pavement. The sun was just barely beginning to peek above the grey sea, gradually spreading pale light over the dark domed sky and the manicured blades of damp grass. But Alex noticed the beauty with only the barest fraction of her attention. Instead, she focused on the muted thumping of rubber on concrete and the pulsing rush of her breath and heartbeat. In the city, she plugged her ears with an iPod, drowning out the constant and furiously noisy crowds of the urban population. But here, running along a wild coast in the wispy fog, she left her music behind. She wanted solitude and she got it. But for the gulls stirring in their stony roosts, Alex was alone with only her perspiring body and tumbling thoughts for company.

Olivia scribbled out a check and slid it over the counter, hoping that the clerk wouldn't comment on her shaky handwriting. She re-packed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder and jumping at a pat on her thigh. She looked down and smiled at the child. "Can I pet your doggie, please?" She gave her permission and laughed as Blondie wagged with abandon, shaking her entire body with her enthusiasm, and proceeded to shower the little boy with sloppy kisses. The dog had good reason to be so gleeful. The payment Olivia had just handed over was for the vet's services. The often-gnawed-at cast had finally been removed and Blondie was at last free to prance on all four legs. At a wave from a woman in the corner balancing a plastic cat carrier in her lap, the tot ran off and Olivia tugged her over-excited dog through the glass doors and onto the street.

Confidence slowly building, she wove her way slowly through crowds of people, jostling the natives and skirting camera-wielding tourists. Her pockets were bulging with dog biscuits and tennis balls. They were going to the dog park, a place where Blondie could burn off some of her excess energy and Olivia could reacquaint herself with the typically New York habit of being alone in a crowd. On the way, she stopped at a news stand for a cold Coke to mitigate the steamy city heat. Fishing for change, her fingers jerked, sending a spray of pennies and dimes skittering across the concrete. She swore under her breath and shoved dollar bills at the irritable vendor, stuffing her purchase into her purse and making a furious retreat. It didn't matter, she thought, gritting her teeth. The Coke would still be refreshing, the coins couldn't have added up to more than a dollar or two, and she would have a good time at the park come hell or high water.

Pausing to rest her hands on her knees and catch her breath, Alex reluctantly decided that it was time to turn back. Her spirit urged her to keep going but her body was sending her a very different message. Shut up in hospital rooms and Olivia's apartment as she cared for her girlfriend was hard and exhausting work but it could hardly be considered aerobic exertion. She was forced to admit that she would have to rebuild the stamina she had cultivated in Wisconsin. New York had made her soft.

Swiping at the sweat on her forehead, she turned on her heel and took off again. Her run may have been shorter than she would have preferred but she was going to make the best of it. Her pace was quick and she used the fresh strain on her lungs and calves as a funnel for the emotion her thoughts had brought to the surface.

At first, she felt anger. There, she could admit it. She was pissed off. Olivia had essentially kicked her out of the apartment she now considered to be her home with little explanation and no warning. Though she hoped she had hidden it well, the request had hit her hard. It stung like a slap on the cheek. And, like the pain of a slap, the shock and anger was fading quickly by tears and pumping blood. Being angry simply took too much energy and she had to make a choice: stay furious or keep running. She chose the latter, leaving her anger behind like the tracks of footsteps she was now making as she cut through a swath of undisturbed, dewy grass.

As the flush of ire faded, she began to feel a twinge of calmer, if a tad rueful, acceptance. Olivia had asked her if she understood. She didn't. She couldn't. Understanding required experience, something she lacked. But she could accept Olivia for who she had become and the new needs she was burdened with. Or at least she could try. It was difficult. For many months now, Alex had lived with her girlfriend's physical limitations. She had nursed her tenderly and tirelessly while she regained some semblance of her old strength and had even begun not to notice the scarring when she looked at her beautiful girlfriend. She had even convinced herself that overlooking bumpy scars, ignoring limping gaits, and helping overcome the difficulties caused by clumsy fingers were tantamount to real acceptance. Now, distant from Olivia, Alex forced herself to confront her private lie. Tolerance of physical marks was one thing. Dealing with the mental and emotional scarring and accepting that the healing process for these wounds would be much longer was quite another. But this lesson, she found, was one she could understand and with which she could sympathize.

Every whistling breath she pulled into her lungs reminded her of how much easier this had been in Wisconsin. With nothing else to do and few friends, Alex had spent much of her time pursuing solitary sports. She ran, she skied, she swam endless laps in her gym's pool. The exercise made her feel good and, more importantly, it made her feel safe. In perfect cardiac health, she felt confident that she could outrun anything. It was a slightly irrational sense of security but Alex had bought into it whole-heartedly. What other choice was available to her? She was wanted by dangerous and powerful people who would sooner shoot her than blink an eye. She had few defenses but she had been determined to make the most of them. So she had perfected her camouflage and worked out until she was lean and hard. That is, until her reclusive life had been disrupted yet again though not by a gun shot.

Within the space of only a day, she had left everything she had built behind. Using her responsibility to comfort and care for Olivia as a buffer, Alex had ignored her grief. It was only a house, she reasoned. It was only two years out of a life time. It was nothing. But now, freshly ejected from the normal routine of her life yet again, Alex again felt the sense of too familiar loss. And, this time, she had no distraction, no excuse to keep her from addressing her feelings. The knowledge of exactly how dramatically her life had changed in only a few years suddenly crashed down onto her and a tuft of grass snagged her toe, nearly sending her sprawling to the ground. She gasped but regained her footing and insisted that her quickly tiring body pick up its pace. As with her stifling anger, Alex chose to keep running through the grief. She could let it come slowly, a little drip or whiff of loss with every scuffing step. She had to find that middle ground, between drowning in the deluge and wasting her energy building dams to keep it at bay. She had to let it come and keep running.

Olivia picked herself off of the concrete, ignoring the smear of blood on her palm and the crust of gravel and grime on her knees. Even the sharp shock of pain hardly registered. She was single-minded, struggling to reach the safety of her home. She clutched at her purse, fearfully recoiling from strangers who caught sight of her cane and held out hands to help. Leash in a white-knuckled grip, she fled down the sidewalk, head down and shoulders hunched. She couldn't stand the stares burning her skin and, most of all, the constant threat of touch on the crowded curb made her chest feel tight with panic. She yearned for the silence and seclusion of her little apartment. And then, its nondescript entrance standing out dramatically in Olivia's eyes, her building loomed over her. She frantically fought with her keys, wrestling her way into the lobby, the elevator and, after several failed tries, into her apartment. She slammed the door and clicked the locks with trembling hands.

Plunging forward without thought, Olivia stumbled into her little kitchen and slammed her hands down flat on the countertop. The sudden noise shook the air in the quiet kitchen and was echoed by Blondie's scrabbling claws as she skittered away from her turbulent mistress. The dog's frightened movement was the first real data that reached Olivia's reeling senses and she felt a pang of guilt. She took herself in hand and ground her fear in a tight grasp, much like one might crush a bit of scrap paper in a fist. She felt so stupid.

It was such a small thing, the spark that had ignited her anxiety attack. She had been resting comfortably on a bench under a shade tree, people watching as her newly exhausted dog panted away on the relatively cool grass. It was a nice afternoon to spend at the park and Olivia was unique. The sunny green area was packed will milling tourists, sunbathers, skateboarders and businessmen out for a late lunch. Olivia welcomed the dense crowds. Regardless of the other aspects of her being, she was a New Yorker at heart. Losing herself within flocks of people was as natural to her as enjoying the big sky was to Montanans. She resented the thrills of nervousness that plagued her when strangers came within reach. So, even as her body urged her to shrink away, Olivia held her ground and faced her fear. And then a voice seemed to turn her heart into a lump of dead ice. It was him.

Swiveling her skull on a suddenly stiff neck, Olivia searched the sea of unfamiliar faces for that one she sought and prayed she wouldn't find. Aware of her mistress's jolt of fear, even Blondie lifted her chin from the ground and looked around her. But, even as she searched, Olivia reassured herself. He couldn't be near. He was in prison, separated from her by miles of patrolled ground and feet of concrete blocks and razor wire. The voice stung her ears again and she hunched her shoulders involuntarily. Heavy, guffawing laughter broke out, the rolling chuckles of a group of men, chortling at some joke that was crowed above their laughter in throaty Russian. She swallowed the bile burning her throat.

Her bench creaked and shifted and she jolted away from the stranger who sat down heavily, cowering on the wooden edge and choking on a grunt of terror. A moment of interested silence broke through the small group of men now clustered around the far end of the bench and then passed. The seated man leaned towards Olivia. "I'm sorry. Do you mind if I sit?" The rolling Russian accent was cloying to Olivia and she felt the rush of adrenaline shiver through her blood. He leaned a little closer and stretched out his hand, his smile disappearing. "Are you okay, miss?" His fingers grazed her elbow. She felt sick. Blondie growled.

She had run then, her dog's wary threat and her own adrenaline kicking her body into action. She hadn't looked back, hadn't paused for a rational thought or even a fragment of one until her door was locked and the coolness of Formica under her palms anchored her to reality. It hadn't been him. She had just made a fool of herself in front of a group of ignorant strangers who just happened to have eastern European roots. She wanted to slap herself. She wanted Alex to be there so she could slap her. But she wasn't. And she wouldn't, anyway. Olivia stalked to the laundry closet to retrieve the little ring she had left atop the washing machine. Cradled in her violently trembling palm, the ring flashed in the afternoon light filtering in from the world outside. Olivia closed her hand, crushing it savagely in her palm. With a choked-off scream, she raised her fist and flung the ring away.


	52. Chapter 52

Breathing a heavy and relieved sigh, Olivia let her shoulders relax and pressed her damp forehead against the cool floor. Her worry and regret had been steadily building until she had all but convinced herself that the ring must have disappeared into a vent and she would never find it. But she had found it, here under her bureau, half-obscured by darkness and dustbunnies. She stretched her arm into the narrow space, fishing and scrabbling with her fingers until they touched metal and she dragged her prize back into the light. Clutching it in her fist, Olivia reached for her bed for support as she struggled back to her feet. She sat on the mattress, glad that the search was over and she could give her sore knees a rest. She had been scouring the apartment for half an hour on all fours and she was tired, sweaty and grimy. Holding the ring between her thumb and forefinger, she blew the dust and grit away, rubbing at tiny specks until it was as shiny as before. She admired it for a long moment and then slid it onto her bedside table. She would find a safe place for it later. For now, she needed a bath.

Wandering through her parents' house, Alex methodically switched every light switch and lamp off. The house was perfectly quiet at last. Her parents were out to dinner and Alex had the house to herself. Not that setting herself up for a relaxing evening had been an easy task. Her mother had coaxed and wheedled to get Alex to accompany them, grudgingly relenting only when Bill had intervened on his daughter's behalf. Even so, Kathleen had busied herself with seeing to her daughter's comfort, needless as her efforts were, setting out items for her dinner, explaining and re-explaining how to use the television remote, reminding her that the bathtub upstairs was equipped with massaging jets. Alex reminded her mother that they would only be gone for an hour or two and that she was, in fact, able to care for herself with at least some degree of competency. She had tried to keep her cool but, still, she felt smothered and petulant. Like a child. But her parents had departed at last and the feeling had passed. She turned on a single lamp and settled down in the dim living room, a book on her lap and a sense of peace soothing her thoughts.

Now this, Olivia thought, this was the definition of peace. She slid deeper into the hot water until it lapped at her chin. She cracked her eyes open and looked at her knees as they stuck above the surface of the water. They were a safe place to start, relatively unscarred and in good condition. In the steamy security of her bathroom, Olivia wanted to finally study her changed body in depth. It was an activity she had avoided, consciously and unconsciously, in the past months. She had tended to change clothes in stages, never baring her whole body at once, and in the corner of her bedroom where she would not catch glimpses of herself in a mirror. When she bathed or showered, she did so in the dark or with a sopping towel wrapped around her body. But this time was different. She was alone.

Without Alex's habit of hovering, loving as it was, Olivia felt more at ease to confront her emotions. She was less frightened of seeing the damage than she was of upsetting Alex by her reaction. Crying over her ruined feet and mutilated breasts made Alex cry too or, worse, made her put on that falsely strong smile and begin with her litany of trite comforts. Olivia hated that. She loved Alex but hated her efforts to assure Olivia that everything would be alright. It wouldn't be alright, not like it was before. She would learn to live with it; to some extent, she already had. But, first, she had to rebuild her own strength and confidence. To do that, she had to be free of worrying about Alex. Just for a little while.

Alex read absentmindedly, her eyes moving over the lines of text though the meaning wasn't transmitted to the higher levels of her mind. Rather, her thoughts were largely preoccupied with the intense pressure she had felt under her mother's oppressive care and the implications of that feeling. Her mother had been well intentioned. After all, she loved her daughter and only wanted to care for her. But Alex had squirmed under her gaze, wishing only to be left free and in peace. With a sinking heart, Alex reflected on how her life with Olivia had proceeded over the past months.

The relationship between Kathleen and her daughter and Alex and her girlfriend were mirror images, equal but not superimposable. Kathleen hovered and helped; Alex did the same. Kathleen adored her child; Alex loved Olivia. Alex chafed uncomfortably when her mother insisted on staying close by and doting. Now she wondered if Olivia had the same feelings of unwanted childishness when Alex was at her side. She wondered if Olivia's plea for her to leave was her own fault.

Hefting her feet out of the water, Olivia rested her heels on the tub's porcelain edge, the better to see the shape and color of the lurid scars. She hadn't looked at them like this since the first time they had released her from the cot after inflicting the damage. It was less traumatic now. There was no blood, no torturing metal. There was only gnarled flesh and strangely knitted bones. She could see the marks of stitches, where the doctors had performed quick repairs, the emergency of her condition at that time precluding any more permanent solution. They had assured her that the efforts of an orthopedic surgeon would significantly reduce the effects of the maiming, as soon as she was well enough to endure it. Alex had assured her that it wouldn't be long now. But still, Olivia wanted to see. She never wanted to forget the extent of the hatred that those men had for her and for all women. She never wanted to allow her own hatred to die out.

She studied the scars she could with her eyes, memorizing every ghastly red bump and welt. Those she could not see, she mapped with her fingertips. She traced the ruinous whip marks between her legs and on the thin skin of her thighs. She palmed her breasts at first, reconciling her memory with the sensations of the present. The pervasive and complete warmth of the water helped to mute the shivers of terror and hate that tingled along her spine and in her fingertips. It washed away the few salty tears that dripped onto her cheeks and trickled to her jaw. Stretching her lips in a grin of grating resentment and determination, Olivia drew her hands away to touch her breasts with more sensitive fingers. Anger burned her remembered fear to ash and then, like a candle in a jar, the lick of flame flared and disappeared into a sinuous wisp of smoke. Her hands fell back into the water with little splashes. Her head fell back with a little thump. She began to sob.


	53. Chapter 53

Olivia frowned, focusing on the cell phone she cradled in her hand. She flipped it open and then, just as quickly, snapped it closed again. It would be so simple to press that button and hear Alex's voice in her ear. It had been days, almost a week since she had watched Alex's sedan disappear into traffic and leave her behind. Her heart begged her thumb to move. Her pride made her doubt whether she was truly ready.

The week had been an eye opening one for Olivia. Without the buffer of Alex's love and protectiveness to safeguard her, she had found that the world grated harshly on her still-sore emotions. There were moments when she felt a sense of absolute confidence. She felt that she could be the woman she had been and that the pieces of her life were on the way to being put together. Like a nearly finished puzzle, Olivia felt she could finally glimpse the sought-after picture. And then, in an instant, a breath, a touch, it was shattered again and she could not recall even a hint of what the picture was intended to be. She hated to admit that, like a puzzle, the time she spent in pieces far outweighed the time she spent feeling whole. She wondered whether Alex's sheltering presence would help her grow or if it would smother her altogether.

Pressing her thumb over the stream of cold water, Alex sprinkled the shrubs at the back of the flower bed with a wide mist. A stiff breeze blew clouds of the smallest droplets back towards her, dampening her skin and wetting her clothes. She didn't move away. The air, despite the breeze and the trajectory of the sun towards the horizon, was still uncomfortably warm and the water was refreshing. A little gust blew stray strands of her hair back from her face and, on its back, brought the barest echo of ringing. Familiar ringing. Her cell phone. Olivia.

Flinging the forgotten hose to the dirt, Alex sprinted towards the porch. She burst inside and swept sloppily to the little hearthroom where she spent so much time reading and listening for her cell to ring. Leave it to Olivia to finally call when she had left the phone behind. She barked her shin sharply against the corner of the coffee table and, jamming the phone to her ear, gasped her hello with the vehemence of a painful oath. "Hello? Olivia?" Damn, she sounded desperate and a little crazy. She inhaled through her teeth and willed her heart to stop pounding.

A little bell jangled above her head as Olivia slipped into the diner and scanned overtop of patrons' heads to find a familiar face. Her eyes met blue ones and she smiled, weaving her way between booths and waitresses to a table up against the window. She slid into the vinyl booth. "Hi, El."

"Hey," he replied, pushing a menu across the well-worn Formica to his partner. "Care to take a glance? My treat."

She shook her head and, as a waitress appeared, gestured for a cup of coffee. "I'm not hungry. I just wanted some company."

Elliot snorted. "I call bullshit, Liv. Since I'm paying, I say you're eating." He grinned at the waitress and, without cracking the menu, ordered for both of them. "Besides, I'm in the mood to celebrate. Kathy's at her book club, my in-laws are sitting and I've been given permission to eat as much bacon as I want." Olivia rolled her eyes and held her mug to her lips, inhaling the aromatic steam for a long moment before taking a sip. This grungy diner had been a favorite haunt of hers and Elliot's for years and she had grown to take comfort in the booths that were always sticky, the coffee that was always weak and the waitresses who, despite their perky uniforms, always managed to project irritable airs. She loved it. Besides, they served breakfast all day and all night. She had lost count of the number of poached eggs she had gulped down in the dead of night in this very booth.

Elliot sucked down half of his mug and beckoned for a refill. He always did make the waitresses work for their tips. He settled his elbows on the table. "So, how are you doing?" His tone was congenial but he didn't fool Olivia. They had spent too much time together in this fluorescent, greasy hole-in-the-wall.

"Really? Small talk? Why don't you just ask what you've been wanting to ask, El?"

"Ok, fine. Have you called Alex?"

"No. How many times did you call Kathy when she went to stay with her parents?"

"Apples and oranges, Liv. I didn't ask her to leave. You need to call her. She's worried." Olivia's eyes slid sideways to focus on a knick in the linoleum-tiled floor. Looking away made it easier to speak.

"You've been talking to her? Is she okay?"

"She called me. She's fine. Upset. Worried about what you'll do if she pushes you. You didn't exactly make yourself very clear, Liv. She doesn't know what to think."

Olivia hunched her shoulders a little, as if she was being scolded like a naughty child. She knew that that wasn't Elliot's intent but she felt guilty anyway. "I've been meaning to. I will."

"Good." Elliot leaned back as their surly waitress reappeared, her stout arms heavily laden with enormous ceramic plates. She plunked them down one by one, grunting the identity of each dish as if each had personally insulted her. Elliot smiled ingratiatingly and politely requested yet more coffee before attacking the little dish of butter with his knife and beginning to slather his pancakes with gusto. Olivia stared at him with amusement. He shoveled a comically large slab of pancake into his mouth and spoke as he chewed. "If you don't, I'll kick your ass. She's running up my long-distance bill." She laughed and he washed the sweet mouthful down with a scalding sip of coffee. "Seriously, you've had your Olivia-time. You need to call her before you lose her. Now, eat up before it gets cold. You know I don't offer to pay often. Take advantage."

Olivia unfurled her cutlery and looked down at the waffle and poached eggs Elliot had ordered for her. She drizzled the syrup over the fragrant waffle and cut a small bite. She really wasn't hungry and Elliot's characteristic food-shoveling wasn't helping but she decided to humor her partner. She knew that, if she didn't at least eat a little, he'd just keep jabbing at her. She ate the bite. It was sweet and hot and tender and delicious. Her stomach growled in appreciation and suddenly she was ravenous. It occurred to her that she had been eating far too little in the last few days. Now, she wanted to eat everything in sight. Popping another bite into her mouth, she reached across the table and snapped up a slice of Elliot's bacon. Usually he would slap her away but today she knew he'd let her have her way and she took advantage as he had urged. He was paying. He could always order more. He snickered and she crunched the greasy treat. The pieces were falling into place once more and the picture looked lovely.

Alex went to her room early that night, abandoning her parents to their after-dinner drinks on the porch. She had been poor company all evening, in a sour mood ever since she had sprinted for her cell phone and left the lawn to turn into a muddy morass. It had been a junk call and all she had to show for it was a deep purple bruise on her shin. She had been so excited to hear that phone ring and now she couldn't seem to snap herself out of her depressed snit. Well, if she couldn't be pleasant then she'd take her book to bed and fall asleep between pages.

She changed slowly, grumbling to herself as she performed her ablutions. Bed wasn't really wanted to be. Not this bed, at least. She wished that Olivia was waiting for her in bed, talking to her through the bathroom door as she tended to do. Instead, the faucet was the only sound that reached her ears and her bed was empty and cold. She dried her face and switched on the lamp. The book held little interest for her but it was too early for sleep and she had no wish for company. She slid between the sheets. She reached for her book but her phone buzzed and her hand changed course. Taught a lesson by her sore shin, she took a second to check the caller id before answering. Her heart leapt. This was no junk call. She pressed the phone to her ear and her smile was bright and irrepressible. "Hi, Liv."

Her girlfriend's voice was soft but steady. She sounded stronger than she had when they had last spoken. Alex bit her tongue to stifle the rush of questions fluttering at the back of her throat. Olivia needed to be in control of this. Alex would grant her that. "How are you?"

Alex wanted to blurt out her answer but she paced herself carefully. She was roiling with homesickness and loss. She didn't want to scare Olivia with the intensity of her feelings. She didn't want to put pressure on her. "I'm okay. I've been spending a lot of time with my parents. It's been nice." She fell silent and waited for Olivia to make the next step.

The line seemed to go dead. Alex held her breath, wondering if the call had been dropped or if Olivia had hung up. She prayed otherwise. She was on the verge of calling for her girlfriend when she heard quiet words that made her heart skip and then thump wildly.

"Are you… Would you like to come home?" Alex pressed her lips tight together, breathing through the burst of joyful tears that stung her eyes. Olivia had asked her to come home. Not to her apartment, not to New York, but home. Such a simple word for such an immense, emotional concept. Yes, she wanted to come back to Olivia. Yes, she wanted to come home.


	54. Chapter 54

Olivia inhaled sharply. The words had come out of her mouth before they had even surfaced in her thoughts. She had dialed Alex not to ask her to come home but to have a conversation, to ask about her girlfriend's well-being and to inform her of her own. She had called to have a taste of that lovely voice to keep her strong. But a few moments of inane small talk was all it had taken for her heart to derail her mind's carefully laid plans. No number of conscious provisions would be sufficient to let her deny the ache she felt for Alex. Her heart wouldn't let her. And it wouldn't let her lie.

She wasn't fine. Not at all. She had fooled herself if she believed that anything was changing for the better. It was getting worse. Certainly she had managed to accomplish a few new things by herself but, without someone to celebrate her successes, she felt that the victories were empty. She was only recreating the lonely life she had lived before Alex and that was nothing to be proud of. After all, she had spent those years pining for someone to love and hold. And, as much as her pride insisted that she was wrong, Olivia took back her request to be alone. She wanted – needed – Alex by her side and, if she could guess from Elliot's subtle urgings and her girlfriend's carefully measured words, Alex needed Olivia too.

"Are you… Would you like to come home?"

"Are you ready, Liv? I mean, yes. I would. But only if it's what you want." Alex huffed inwardly at herself. This wasn't her, this pathetic mincing of words. She was direct and honest. She should be screaming, "Yes, yes, yes," like her heart urged, not prevaricating and hesitating like a scared puppy. But the words were out there and now her only choice was to hope that Olivia would hear the unsaid urgency.

"Ready? I… yes. No. I don't know. I want you to come. If you want to." Alex could almost hear Olivia riffling through the same series of thoughts that she had just finished. She wanted to laugh. As much as this tentativeness wasn't Alex, she knew for a fact that it wasn't Olivia either. And it wasn't how they worked together. With a deep breath, Alex decided to put an end to the stalemate.

"We sound like preteens trying to go steady, Liv. I want to come home. I'll leave tomorrow morning. Is that alright?" Olivia breathed her assent, as obviously relieved to be done with the strange awkwardness that had so far dominated the call as Alex was. Alex smiled again, an expression that was more relaxed and natural than the strained grin that made her jaw ache. "Okay, sweet pea. I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and Liv… I'm so glad." Alex let her hand fall back to her lap. She shut her eyes for a long moment, savoring the newfound sense that all was right with the world. She pushed the sheets away and rose from the bed. She thrust her arms into her robe. Maybe she'd take her parents up on that drink after all. At the moment, she felt like she could be very good company.

Olivia hurried her obliging dog up the street, hardly pausing in her rush to let her sniff the lampposts and tree trunks. Olivia had plans she needed to see to but Blondie needed her exercise and fresh air. The faster they walked, the quicker the dog would work out her excess energy. Not that their pace was all that fast. But there was a bit of elation lifting Olivia's feet and Blondie picked up on that, wagging happily and frequently looking up at her mistress.

Turning the corner back onto her block, Olivia tapped her foot impatiently as she unlocked the door to the lobby and waited for the elevator. Alex was already on her way home and all of Olivia's misgivings were forgotten, at least for the moment. She hustled into her apartment, depositing her dog inside with a treat and caress. Double checking her purse for her wallet and phone, Olivia fled the building with the same quickness as before, hailing a cab the moment she stepped onto the curb.

Alex paused outside the familiar door, keys in hand, considering whether to let herself in or knock. This was Olivia's apartment, technically. But Olivia had not invited her to come over or to visit. She had invited her home. Still… Shaking her head in frustration, Alex decided to bite the bullet and stuck her key into the lock. Only to have the door open before she could even take a breath. She gaped ungracefully. Olivia's gentle smiled appeared in stages and Alex regained her self-control enough to shut her mouth. Olivia stepped back and Alex stepped in. She was back.

"Um, sorry. Blondie was sniffing at the door and acting funny. I figured it was you." Olivia waved Alex towards the bedroom to get rid of her suitcase, following along behind and letting Blondie's excited snuffling dispel the tension. Alex laughed softly. She should have guessed. She heaved her bag onto the bed and unzipped it before giving in to the dog's friendly whine and bending down to greet her with a vigorous ear-scratching. She tweaked Blondie's ear affectionately and straightened only to gape again. There was a little black box balanced on the rumpled contents of her suitcase and Olivia was grinning shyly.

"Take it," she whispered. Alex blankly complied, picking up the little box and hesitating.

"Liv, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put it in your suitcase. It was too much. Too soon." Olivia bit her lip.

"Just open it." Alex did.

This was not the ring she had left for Olivia. This was not a ring she had ever seen before. She liked it. It was beautiful, simple, silvery and delicate, a row of tiny sapphires set into the band. Olivia always said that color suited her, helped to crack her ice-princess image. And she always admired Alex in blue. Alex tore her eyes away from the ring to look at her girlfriend. She was delighted… and afraid. Their one interaction over the course of a week had been uncomfortable. This gesture was too much, too big of a first step. Olivia was overcompensating for something. Alex couldn't let her. But she didn't get a chance. Olivia took her hand and pressed it.

"I'm not asking, Alex. Not yet. I want you to hang on to it, that's all. For when the time is right." Alex gathered her fragmented thoughts and returned her girlfriend's grasp. Now she understood. Olivia was putting them on even footing, reaching out to Alex the way Alex had reached out to her when she slipped the ring from her own suitcase to Olivia's. She was making a commitment to the happiness they would share in the future. She wasn't there yet but she would be. And she expected that Alex would be there too.

Very gradually, the shock on Alex's expression changed into tender contentment. She couldn't help but smile with love and with relief. She knew that, if she searched her soul deeply enough, she wasn't there either. But, with Olivia's hand warm in her own and the promise of things to come glinting from a background of black velvet, she felt a hope unlike any she had felt since before she had received the scar on her shoulder. It was pure and undeniable and exactly what she needed after the week she had had. "Okay," she murmured. "I can live with that." She touched her lips to Olivia's, more of a graze than a kiss but imbued with no less meaning. They were on the edge of a new beginning, a rare opportunity to press the reset button and make up for past mistakes and hardships. Starting over meant rewinding to the very beginning and that meant holding hands, speaking honestly, sharing power and very gentle kisses.


	55. Chapter 55

Sucking a long breath through her clamped teeth, Olivia focused on her fingers, mentally uncurling each finger from her rigidly clenched fists. She didn't even open her eyes; the dark, silent bedroom would be no comfort to her. Instead she forced her hissing breath in and out of her lungs with iron-willed regularity and stretched her stiff, aching fingers. She had woken up like this, curled in a tense knot, her fingernails dug deeply into her palms. The nightmare was gone, no trace left of it in her memory but for the terror and adrenaline in her shaking limbs. She was thankful for that small mercy at least but it didn't exactly ease her back into wakefulness nor did it allow her the rest she wished for. At last, she rubbed her knuckles over her eyes and took in the dull, gray wall. Thin light was filtering in through the curtains. It was close to dawn. She wouldn't get back to sleep.

Pushing the sweat-damp sheet aside, Olivia eased out of the bed, checking her every movement to keep from jostling her sleeping girlfriend. She knew that Alex would be up shortly but, still, she wanted a few minutes for herself. To catch her breath and soothe her pounding heart. She placed her feet cautiously, avoiding the leggy, gently snoring dog at the side of her bed. If anything would wake Alex, it would be the surprised scrabble of a hound with an accidentally crushed foot. She rose and, hand outstretched towards the bureau for balance, took a creeping step.

Then, in a flash, she was on the floor. The pang of pain in her knees and the heels of her hands followed a second later, almost buried in the rush of guilt as she heard Alex jump upright in a flurry of sheets and gasps. She let her spine go limp and her forehead thump onto the floor. She pressed the fist not trapped under her body tightly against her temple and stayed still. Alex would be on her in a second. She needed a breath and a moment just to blink and think.

Blondie's clicking nails tracked across the bare floor and Olivia felt warm, doggy breath snuffle in her hair. Alex's feet slapped against the wood but, when Olivia moved to anticipate her girlfriend's hands, the rhythm stopped short. The suddenly unfriendly dog leapt to brace herself at Olivia's feet and let out a low, menacing growl. Olivia frowned, pushing herself to sit. She touched Blondie's side and the dog glanced back, the growl disappearing into a relaxed pant. Alex took a step forward and Blondie's transformation back to fierce guardian was unnervingly sudden. For a split second, all three were at a standstill, Alex holding her hands up, Blondie pressing her ears flat back, Olivia glancing between them. Then Olivia laughed. This is what her life had become. She held out her hand for Alex to take, brushing her protective dog affectionately aside. Blondie hesitated and then wagged, the hair on her shoulders laying down as she retreated back to her cushion for a nap. The crisis was over; her mistress was safe.

"Liv, Liv, you scared me. Are you okay?" Alex's face was haggard and pinched, her blonde ponytail fuzzy with sleep. Olivia bit back her laughter, smoothing her palms over her girlfriend's messy hair and smiling.

"I'm fine. I was trying to be so quiet. I caught my toe in the sheet, that's all." Alex sighed heavily, blinking through the drowsiness that had just caught up with her. She bit her lip for the space of a breath and then smiled through her second breath and then, at last, chuckled softly. She touched Olivia's hand where it rested on the nape of her neck.

"Thanks for calling off your dog, then."

Alex handed Olivia a mug of fresh coffee and paced across the living room to open the curtains of the picture window. The sun was coming up fast and, though this was Manhattan and the view was crowded with metal and glass, they could watch the rays of light glinting off of the buildings and the changing color of the sky. She paused, leaning her hip against the window frame and peering down at the delivery trucks perched on the edges of the curbs. She liked the way the sparse traffic and delivery men moved with such purpose in the cool morning air. There was hope and expectation this soon after dawn, none of the dour, over-worked attitudes that would become oppressive later in the day. Alex lived for these few moments of purposeful peace. And today, with Olivia up at what she preferred to dub an "ungodly hour", Alex decided to make use of that hope and peace. She turned slowly to look at her girlfriend in the fresh, dim light.

"Liv, I was… It's been… Would you tell me… what happened?"

Olivia looked steadily at her girlfriend, unable to make out Alex's expression, silhouetted as she was against the window. A hundred questions and thoughts popped into her mind but she let them drain away, unvoiced. Putting too much thought into this would only increase the pressure that always squeezed her chest. She took a slow sip of her coffee, focusing on the aromatic sweetness to keep her calm expression in place. She too had been thinking of telling Alex, just unsure of how or when or where or even if it was wise. But she was over analyzing again. She lowered her mug and smiled gently. "Do you want to hear it?"

Alex took a long step towards the sofa, her body moving to soothe the question away on instinct. She stopped. "No. I don't want to." She pressed her lips together for a second and moved another step closer, slower this time. "Liv, I need to. And I need you to tell me." She clenched her fingers nervously around her hot mug for support, her posture stiff and uneasily expectant. She hadn't been there when Olivia disappeared or when she was found. She hadn't been there during the investigation and she had been at home with Olivia during the trial, not that she had minded avoiding the coldly clinical analysis of her beloved girlfriend's rape and torture. And, as for newspapers and blurbs on TV, Alex had made a conscious effort to ignore them. She needed to hear it from Olivia's lips, in whatever words she chose, in screams, in tears, whispers, or murmurs. She needed Olivia to be the one to tell her.

The beckoning motion of Olivia's outstretched hand broke Alex from her rigid stillness and she stepped jerkily to sit on the sofa. She took her girlfriend's hand.

"Okay," Olivia sighed. She looked away from Alex's tense expression, her eyes traveling over furniture, pale walls, the knobby rug. Her gaze settled on a framed photograph on the table beside the easy chair. It was of Alex and herself from years before, clinging to the rails of a ferry and each other, smiling as salty wind blew their hair back from their faces. It was one of the only pictures of Alex that she had been simply unable to pack away with the rest of the things that reminded her of her girlfriend after she had been whisked away. The memory of kneeling amidst stacks of photographs and mementos and packing paper was still so vivid in her memory that she could almost smell the cardboard and hear the characteristic rasp as she sealed boxes with clear packing tape. It was a memory that no longer seemed as bleak as it once had. Alex was here at her side. Her hand was warm in Olivia's own. She took a deep breath.

"I was in a bar, having a drink on a Friday before I went home…" Alex let her body relax against the sofa's cushions, consciously willing each muscle to become soft and pliant. Olivia's voice was low and clear and Alex let it wash over her, its timbre serving as a comforting counterpoint to the terrible story she knew was coming. Olivia told it simply, glossing delicately over the spans of torture and adding in hopeful bits about how much she had thought of Alex and her friends, how she had been determined to survive like the victims she had counseled. A string of love and sorrow tightened painfully around Alex's heart and she moved across the sofa, setting aside her coffee cup and curling against her girlfriend's reassuringly solid body.

The story was heartbreaking. Alex thought she had been prepared to hear it but she quickly decided that she hadn't. Or maybe she was prepared and there was just no possible way to make this easier. Or maybe a story like this was simply impossible to prepare for. Folding her lanky body in on itself, Alex lowered her head to rest her cheek on Olivia's shoulder. She curled her hand around Olivia's hip and, after a moment, felt the comforting weight of an arm settle around her body. She felt small, helpless. The uncomfortable balance of power in their relationship was rapidly righting itself. While Olivia needed it, Alex was glad to be the leader while her girlfriend was led, the provider while Olivia consumed, the crutch that propped her beloved up. But now, despite her wrenching heart, she felt relieved. Olivia was one of the only people Alex could trust with her vulnerability and that trust had been well and thoroughly earned. For a little while at least, Alex could be weak and submissive in her girlfriend's loving embrace. She sniffled.

Olivia paused, turning her head to touch a kiss to the crown of her girlfriend's head. She wondered if it was too much, too quickly. Maybe Alex's serenity was only a façade that would break if she knew. Maybe she wouldn't ever be able to look at Olivia the same way. But, then again, maybe she needed to crack and then to heal before they could move forward. Olivia stretched to reach a box of tissues to press into Alex's hands and decided to hope for the best. Alex had stood by her through terrible things already. Olivia didn't know how hearing her story could hurt her any worse. Maybe it would make things better. There was only one way to find out.


	56. Chapter 56

Alex scrunched her face up. She felt terrible, really uncomfortable. Her neck was twisted in a knot and her head pounded. And her feet were… really hot. Grunting, she braced her arm on the sofa back and heaved her achy body upright. Her spine cracked loudly and she bit back a groan of surprised pain. Moving more cautiously, she turned her head and cracked open one swollen eye. While Alex had been asleep, Blondie had snuck in and climbed onto the free end of the sofa. She was curled up tight to fit in the limited space, her spindly legs jutting out awkwardly, Alex's feet wedged under the dog's belly. No wonder she felt so overheated despite her flimsy pajamas. Alex extracted her feet and maneuvered to sit more comfortably. Blondie was not allowed on the furniture but she looked to sweet to disturb. Alex made a mental note to have a talk with Olivia about her pet later.

Gingerly, she stretched her cramped shoulders and rubbed lightly at her sore eyes. Her toes were tickled by the wads of used tissues she had discarded on the rug. She knew without checking a mirror that her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. She must have fallen asleep in Olivia's embrace. She wondered dimly about how long she had been out. The apartment was bright with midday summer sunlight that stung her barely open eyes and quietly rumbling with the muffled sounds of the street. The last she had seen, the morning was still beginning. Apparently it had been quite a while. The mug on the coffee table caught her bleary eye and she reached for it. Coffee was what she needed. But it was cold and unappetizing and she didn't even bother to pick it up for a sip. She'd make a fresh pot. Olivia was sure to want some too.

Olivia was still asleep. Her head was tilted back, supported by the sofa cushions, and her lips were parted. One arm was still loosely draped around Alex's body though it had slipped from her shoulders to her waist. She looked remarkably comfortable despite the position in which she was slumped. Alex decided to let her be for the moment; no sense disturbing the rest she so needed before there was even hot coffee to tempt her. And Alex wanted cold water for her puffy eyes and a hair brush. It really was the least she could do.

Alex had spent the early hours of the morning sobbing through Olivia's story and then being comforted. She felt a little guilty, reflecting in the clear light of day. Olivia hadn't shed a single tear throughout the ordeal, speaking softly and steadily and pressing Alex's wet cheek to her chest. It seemed a little backwards. But this was how Olivia wanted their relationship to be, imbued with give-and-take, partnership, and mutual reliance. It had seemed so easy and natural at the time. Now Alex recognized that stepping back was going to be harder than she had thought. She wanted to be Olivia's shield and her pillow, her knight and nurse. In some small corner of her heart, she wished she could tuck Olivia away somewhere safe, somewhere packed with cushions and chocolates and kept warm with crackling fires. It was hard to reconcile this part of herself with the part that trusted Olivia. It was going to take more than one night together for Alex to let her girlfriend walk by herself again. Too much had happened.

Bending over the sink, Alex splashed handful after handful of cold water on her puffy eyes and red cheeks. She was a mess, her face reflecting how she felt inside. She had really convinced herself that she was fine, that by running until she was on the verge of collapse and then pinning up her hair perfectly she could make the emotional turmoil ease back into the orderly containers she preferred. But, while her efforts had gotten her far, they wouldn't work forever. She was cracking under the pressure. She dabbed the water away with a hand towel and ran a brush through her tangled hair. Maybe, if she could judge from the morning they had had, Olivia was finally becoming strong enough to catch her when she collapsed. The thought gave Alex some comfort and she crept back to the living room to cuddle with her girlfriend while she waited for the coffee to brew.

By some miracle, despite the sunlight and the burbling coffee pot, Olivia was still asleep. It was just one more clue of how desperate Olivia's body was for rest. Her eyes seemed perpetually ringed with black circles and she never made it more than thirty minutes into any film before Alex could hear her soft snores. But she rarely slept for long, always starting awake in the midst of a nightmare. Alex settled onto the sofa, her heart sinking when she saw how her girlfriend's eyebrows were knit together. Olivia's fingers twitched and she whimpered almost silently, a sound Alex wished she had never heard. It was such a sad, frightened noise, one Olivia never deserved to have learned. Alex touched her fingers to Olivia's forehead, soothing away her frown with short, gentle strokes. She prayed that she could chase the demons away without waking…

"Damn, Liv, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." Olivia's eyes had popped open mid-whimper and Alex withdrew her hand, shamefaced. Blinking a few times and rubbing her eyes, Olivia managed a small smile. Alex touched her cheek shyly and couldn't seem to quite meet her girlfriend's gaze. "You… were you having a bad dream?"

Suddenly Olivia also felt distinctly uncomfortable. Alex seemed so ill-at-ease, so deflated and different from her usual confident self. Maybe she had made a mistake after all. Buying herself some time to clear her head, Olivia pressed her palm over Alex's fingers and faked a little yawn. "It's okay, darling," she murmured before hesitating. "I was having a nightmare but I don't really remember it what it was about. I… You know, it's okay to ask. You're always honest with me. I can be honest with you. I'm a big girl." She tried to smile at her joke, to make her girlfriend more comfortable but it didn't work. She wanted to help Alex like Alex had helped her. It made her feel good, more like her old self. She just had to convince Alex of that. It wasn't going to be as easy as she had hoped. She waited patiently.

"Do you usually remember them?" Alex's voice was soft but she didn't stumble and she sounded more sure of herself. Olivia shook her head gently. Alex bit her lip. "Oh." Olivia decided to take control and put her shaky girlfriend on firmer ground.

"Alex, talking this morning really helped. I've never told anyone, not like that. I trust you and I love you." She stretched out her hand and squeezed Alex's arm reassuringly. "Really, Alex. You're always there for me. I want to be…" Alex cut her off awkwardly.

"I don't know if I can do it," she blurted. "It was so… terrible. I don't…" Her throat closed tearfully and she fell silent. Olivia rubbed her arm and kept quiet. "I can't understand what happened to you. I don't know how you can talk to me about it."

Olivia traced the line of her girlfriend's arm to brush her fingertips over the star-shaped scar on Alex's shoulder, still luridly colored even after almost three years. "I've never been shot," she said gently. "Can you talk to me about that?" Alex glanced down at her scar reflexively and then back at her serene girlfriend. She opened her mouth in a false start and then gulped like a fish, briefly unable to sort out her emotional thoughts into a single clear statement. She pressed her lips together, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt her cheeks flush.

"Yes," she mumbled, ashamed. She was aware she wasn't making much sense, that her heart was guiding her rather than her rational mind, but she was grateful to Olivia for her patience and gentleness. She was lost here, paddling aimlessly in uncharted waters. Olivia was the only thing giving her any semblance of direction. Alex decided to try and stop resisting, to let Olivia hold the rudder for a little while. "I'm trying, Liv."

"I know. Now," Olivia said, changing her tone to make it brighter, "I swear that I can smell coffee. Do you think that there's a cup for me?" Alex hiccupped a sad laugh, hurriedly brushing away a tear. She was cried-out, for the time being. More tears were the last thing she needed right now.

"There's always a cup for you, sweet pea," she whispered, pressing a quick kiss to the palm of Olivia's hand before bolting to the kitchen to grab hold of herself and pour the coffee. She needed something to do with her hands that didn't involve tissues or tears. She managed to laugh again as Olivia's voice chased her towards the coffee pot.

"If you really want to help me, you could remember that I like two sugars." At times like these, Alex could hardly believe how much she loved this woman.


	57. Chapter 57

Alex couldn't help it. She couldn't help the way her eyes were constantly drawn to her girlfriend, observing her in a completely new light. She couldn't help staring at each scar, limping step, stiff twitch with a fluorescent sign flashing garishly in her mind's eye. She knew now, knew the details of how each little change in her dear friend had come to pass. And, for better or worse, the knowledge, once learned, could never be forgotten.

Every honk on the street below became the cruel taunt of an abuser in Alex's ears. Every slammed door, the crack of a whip. Every shout, a scream for release. Like a six-year-old child, Alex wished she could just stuff her ears with her fingers and pretend that she could disappear. But she wasn't a child and she couldn't hide. She had tried. It hadn't worked. So she bit her tongue and bore it and wondered how Olivia had ever managed to come home. But she couldn't stop staring, even when Olivia stared back.

And Olivia did stare. She could feel Alex's eyes burning uncomfortable holes in her back at the oddest moments, inspecting her, seemingly committing her every breath to memory. At first, she had whirled around to confront her watcher. Alex's pinched gaze made her feel naked, like a side of bloody beef hung up for the USDA scrutinizing stamp of approval. The puckered brand on her stomach itched as if Alex could see it even through her shirt. She looked at Alex's blue eyes and, for an instant, saw pockmarked skin and dark, bristling eyebrows. There was a clinical coldness there that made her shiver. Alex had no right to invade her privacy so intimately. She had no right to make her feel so transparent.

But that was a lie. Olivia had invited her in, taken away her girlfriend's rose-colored glasses and replaced them with the high-definition starkness of reality. Sure, Alex had asked for it but it took two to do the dance. Whether they performed the steps skillfully or not, with grace or toe-crushing clumsiness, they were dancing together and that meant taking equal responsibility for tripping over loose shoelaces as well as successfully executing a complicated twirl. That meant slapping high-fives and Band-Aiding each other's blistered heels. That meant Olivia could tell Alex her story and live with the consequences. Live with the unvoiced questions. Live with the staring.

Her resignation didn't prevent the goosebumps from pebbling her skin under Alex's hawk-like stare but it did help her to endure it. She could acknowledge her girlfriend with a glance and then return her attention to her dog or her dishes or her television. She could even understand Alex's morbid fascination. She just wished that it didn't have to be so silent, so wary. Olivia took a deep breath. She withdrew her anxiously gnawed fingertip from between her teeth and uncurled her legs from her crouched seat on the sofa. She could do this. She could tear the bandage off with one violent yank and bear it all for Alex to see. She could slip her hand around to the small of her girlfriend's back and lead the dance.

Planting her feet firmly on the carpet, Olivia stood and held out her hand. Alex's studious gaze melted into a blankly surprised gape before she put her fingers into Olivia's palm and allowed herself to be led to the bedroom. They had been spinning their wheels in a rut of uneasy coexistence for two days now but something had changed. Something had kicked Olivia out of the rut and, evidently, she was going to pull Alex out with her. She wasn't sure she was ready.

"Liv?"

Olivia ignored Alex's tentative half-question. She was tense enough on her own, sufficiently uncertain for the both of them. Recognition of Alex's hesitance would only tip the scales and she would lose the strength to push through. In the absence of a clearly stated refusal from Alex, Olivia would close her ears, brace her spine and finally open her heart. Any other speech would be spurious, depleting her momentum like a spot of chewing gum on the sole of her shoe. She simply couldn't afford the distracting stickiness. She needed clean, smooth shoes or she'd stay safely at the punch bowl and never make it out onto the dance floor at all.

Guiding Alex with gentle touches on her shoulders, Olivia paused in front of their full-length mirror. She clicked the lamp on, staring at the soothing yellow glow on the shade for almost a full minute. It was an excruciatingly long moment, every inaudible second ticking loudly in her ears, every slow hiss of Alex's breath reminding her that she was in the spotlight and in control. She felt as if she was waiting for the music to begin before the first steps of her dance. She would know it when she heard it. Without those familiar notes, she couldn't begin.

Dropping her hand loosely to her side, Olivia raised her head to finally look at Alex and acknowledge her steady stare. Alex was her dance partner; to make this work, she needed to be told the steps. Olivia controlled her voice carefully.

"You've been staring at me."

Alex recoiled a little, flinching away as she was caught red-handed. "I… I'm sorry, Liv, I…" Olivia moved only her eyes but Alex stopped short. Olivia wasn't finished.

"I know what you're looking for. I told you the story. Now I want you to see." She became quiet but refrained from biting her lip. She had an audience. As loving and accepting as it was, Olivia still didn't want her nerves to show. "But… I want to see too. I want to see you."

Alex ducked her head briefly, hiding her eyes for just a second. Olivia seemed so poised and composed and Alex felt ungainly in comparison. Straightening her neck and holding her head high, she nodded gently. No apprehension. No fear. Just a nod.

"Take off your shirt." Alex hesitated. Olivia lifted her hands to the hem of her own t-shirt. Alex followed and, in one fluid motion, swept the blouse over her head and away from her body. Olivia's eyes traveled over her exposed skin, the touch of her gaze so intense as to be almost physically tangible. She watched and then she mimicked. She looked at Olivia's body.

"Take off your pants." This time, Alex complied without a second thought, not even pausing to try and catch her girlfriend's eye. She just stripped off her ratty jeans, secure in the knowledge that Olivia's actions were an almost perfect, if slower, mirror of her own. She straightened. Olivia straightened. They stared, their mutual lines of sight crossing in space but never meeting. In all the months since they had been united, neither had seen the other like this, taking the time to examine and consider, think and stare without self-consciousness. There were no touches, no tears, no sounds but the rustle of clothing as they slowly undressed. There was nothing to distract from the beauty and ugliness of their two bodies. Alex could see Olivia's slow nod in the periphery of her vision and understood. It was time for the final act. No request was given. None was needed.

Two bras landed on the floor. Two sets of panties, one wispy and one practical, were nudged away with little flicks of two feet, one perfect and one disfigured. Olivia's body crystallized under Alex's gaze. Armed with knowledge, she no longer had to wonder. She began to assign dispassionate labels to the scars: bull whip; burn; track marks from needles; steel shears; friction. The labels began to overlap. There were so many. Alex pressed her fingertips to her lips. Her methodical mind kept spewing more neat labels, even as she ran out of skin on which to tack them: assault; abuse; torture; rape. Her throat closed.

Even as Olivia sensed Alex's gradually growing fear, she felt a thick blanket of utter calm and acceptance settle over her own emotions. If it hadn't felt so reassuring, she would have deemed it almost unnatural. This must be the next step. She had shed all the tears she had for her ruined body. It was time for the music to change. It was time for Alex to dance. Steadily, Olivia reached out and touched her girlfriend's shoulder.

Alex's muscles twitched under the light pressure but her eyes remained fixed on their path over Olivia's body. Olivia changed the touch to a firmer grasp, anchoring Alex in place as her regret began to spiral into horror. If she gave in, their dance would collapse. It couldn't be performed alone. Olivia needed her to stay and try, even if she stumbled. "Alex, it's okay."

That simple statement broke Alex's numb focus and she lifted her chin. She wanted to scream that, no, it wasn't ok, but again Olivia's eyes stopped her. There was something in those beloved brown eyes that soothed her scream away. Those eyes were okay. Alex swallowed against the pressure on her chest and, to her grateful surprise, she found it easier than she had expected. Not a lot, but a little. She could see clearly again. She could breathe. She could lean into her partner's arms and follow the steps. She could dance this dance.


	58. Chapter 58

Buttoning the last brass button of her navy jacket, Olivia squared her shoulders and let her arms rest straight at her sides. Her dress blues still fit reasonably well though they did feel a little looser than she remembered. It was some sort of miracle, given the number of years since she had last given it a once-over with the lint roller. There just wasn't much call for such a formal uniform in her line of work except, God forbid, for an NYPD funeral. But the force had been lucky in recent years, escaping with close-calls and hospital bills and blessedly few opportunities to wear black bands. Yes, Olivia could at last include herself among the lucky. The memories attached to this uniform reminded her of that. Tonight, Alex would hold Olivia's hand rather than a solemnly folded flag. For Olivia, it was something to take pride in and to thank God for. She had survived. Many had not.

Sharpening her posture, Olivia watched her reflection in the mirror, inspecting her features for the tense lines that had creased her skin in recent months. One by one, she tried to relax them away. Not only was she among the lucky, she was one officer in the strong blue line of the NYPD. The police were proud and tough. They did not creep around with fear in their eyes. She may not have a long future left in the department but she hadn't officially quit yet. She could still hold her head high and look the part as best she could. Fixing her sternest expression in place, Olivia thrust her jaw forward and inspected her reflection. She looked good.

Discarding her tough façade, Olivia chuckled at her vanity. She hadn't been one for making faces in the mirror since junior high school. Yet here she was, studying her cop face and admiring it. She let herself laugh, waving as Alex stuck her head out of the bathroom doorway with one eyebrow cocked. The blonde smiled brightly and ducked back inside to finish her make-up and Olivia's heart grew impossibly light.

September had been a good month, full of good news and good progress. Olivia could hardly believe that the past four weeks had actually passed in such a positive manner. Asked one month ago about how she thought September would be and Olivia would have only sighed and turned away; a positive attitude was a luxury for people with hope based in solid evidence. But September had come and was about to go and Olivia felt genuinely happy and hopeful.

Olivia smoothed her dark hair with her fingers, arranging and rearranging the way the short fringe swept across her forehead and patting down the little tufts that always insisted on sticking up. Alex always ruffled them back up, teasingly proclaiming her love for women with cow-licks. It was Alex's way of giving thanks for the promising bill of health Olivia had been given by the beaming oncologist. There was no more chemo in his patient's immediate future. He had given her the okay to go ahead and enjoy her full head of hair. It wouldn't be going anywhere for a long time. Olivia enjoyed her girlfriend's admiration of her hair but she hoped Alex would at least refrain from rumpling it until after the photographs had been taken. Hair was a new and exciting privilege for Olivia. She wanted it to look perfect. Well, until they were back home, alone, anyway. Then Alex could ruffle to her heart's content and Olivia would never say boo.

Craning her neck to the side, she bared her teeth in a grotesque grimace. She knew that she probably wouldn't be able to get a good look but she tried anyway. At long last, she once again had a full set of pearly whites, the first step in taking her body back from the men who had tried to take it. And, once she had the doctor's go-ahead, it had only taken a few hours in an oral surgeon's chair, one evening of Alex laughing at her woozy, drowsy antics and it was done. It had been so easy and, once the swelling had gone down, it was almost as if the teeth had never been pulled at all. Almost. But almost was better than nothing and Olivia had great plans to embrace her new chewing power. And her new smile. The missing teeth hadn't been visible but Olivia had always felt that the hole was luridly conspicuous. With a new set of implants in place, she wanted to smile for all the world to see. Especially Alex.

Relaxing her ugly expression, Olivia gave her uniform one last tug and proclaimed her satisfaction. For better or worse, it would have to do. She retreated to the bathroom, leaning against the doorjamb and waiting for Alex to set her compact aside. She checked her wristwatch. They were just on time. Perfect. "You look… nice."

Alex whirled, blue eyes flickering with menacing fire. "Nice? Olivia Benson, you have ten seconds to revise that opinion or you're going stag." She maintained her furious veneer just long enough to growl her statement before a twitch at the corner of her lips cracked her expression wide open. Laying her hands flat on her girlfriend's shoulders, she touched her lips lightly to Olivia's, unwilling to smudge her lipstick but unable to resist just one little kiss. She leaned back and fixed Olivia with a sly gaze. "I'm still waiting, sweet pea. What have you got to say for yourself?"

"You look very nice."

Alex rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and plucked at the shiny medal pinned to Olivia's jacket, straightening it so its glint would catch everyone's eye. Alex was proud to be escorted by a decorated detective, even one whose eloquence was so decidedly… lacking. "Alright," she quipped, "then I say you look reasonably presentable. Ready to go?" Olivia nodded and held up her hat in white gloved hands. Alex smiled.

XXXXXXXXXX (A/N: I just realized that ff net has been removing my scene breaks. I've switched to something more suitable. Sorry for all the stories in the past that may have been confusing.)

Holding out her arm like any polite gentleman, Olivia waited for her girlfriend to finish fussing about her hair before escorting her towards the ballroom. With each step, she took strength from Alex's confident grasp on her arm and quashed the whispers of nervousness in her stomach. They were going to a party, for God's sake, not being put on trial. A party thrown by Alex's parents, no less, for the express purpose of celebrating a new endowment for their pet charity, the Alexandra Cabot Fund for Significant Others and Spouses. 

They had provided the original endowment three years prior, announcing in the aftermath of their daughter's funeral that they wished to create a center where a loved ones could receive free grief therapy after a death in the line of duty. And it wasn't limited to the families of employees of the DA's office. Anyone associated with Manhattan's system of law and order could come and be welcomed. After all, there were thousands of dedicated officers and prosecutors who put themselves at risk to protect the city and not all of their families were as well-off financially as the Cabots. Not all could afford the burden of therapists bills after the death of a breadwinner. Now, that their daughter unexpectedly restored to them, however, Bill and Kathleen decided that it was time to express their gratitude. So they threw this event, pumped a fresh wad of cash into the Fund's coffers and, of course, changed the name. From now on it would simply be called S.O.S. And Alex would be there to unveil the new logo.

Smiling through a sparse sprinkling of strangers, Alex caught her father's eye. He excused himself quickly and, sliding an arm around his wife's waist, hurried to greet his guests of honor. Standing aside so that Kathleen could press two kisses to his daughter's cheeks, Bill held out an enthusiastic hand to Olivia. "Olivia, as I live and breathe, I've never seen such a stunning officer of the law. And that's counting that blonde motorcycle cop who pulled me over. Did I ever tell you about that? See, I was…" Kathleen cut her husband off with a good-natured huff.

"Please, Bill, we've all heard about the motorcycle cop before. It wasn't funny the first time and it isn't funny now. Why don't you run along and get these girls something to drink?" She winked and watched her husband's retreat. "I apologize in advance for Bill, Olivia, dear. One flute of champagne and he'll tell you stories all night long." As always, Olivia let Alex's parents' playful banter set her at ease. Meeting them had been a pleasant surprise for Olivia.

Outside of the time she spent alone with Alex, Olivia found her girlfriend to be stoic and unapproachable. She had expected the same aloof coolness from her parents, especially on encountering them for the first time. Her expectations could not have been farther from the truth. Bill and Kathleen were warm and inviting, welcoming Olivia instantly and setting aside a place in their family just for her. With Alex's parents, Olivia enjoyed the gentle acceptance of a mother and the ruddy teasing of a father for the first time. She was man enough to admit that she had missed them very dearly. She was glad to have them back in her life.

Shifting her cane to her right hand, she accepted the glass of wine from Bill and allowed him to take her hat and gloves and Alex's wrap and deposit them safely on their seats. She felt Alex's fingers graze over her grip on her cane and grinned. This was their first public appearance together after the news frenzy surrounding her rescue and Rominov's trial had died down. She had no doubt that everyone in the room knew exactly who she was and what her uniform concealed but she couldn't seem to care. Nothing could dampen her mood. She was secure in the circle of friends and family. She was healing and cancer-free and sporting a nice head of hair. She had a graceful, elegantly attired and independently wealthy blonde clinging to her arm with the doting posture of an adoring wife. For once in her life, whatever else had happened or would happen, Olivia Benson had it all. She was an incredibly and undeniably lucky woman.


	59. Chapter 59

The moment that the little jazz combo ended the song's last long note with a little flourish of steel brushes on a snare, Olivia put her hands together and began to plan her escape. It wasn't that she wasn't having a lovely time. She was. It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying Cragen as a dance partner. He was sweet and funny and just inept enough to make her laugh. Rather, it was that the lovely time was turning into a very long time and Cragen was simply the latest in a very lengthy series of dance partners. Olivia just needed to take the load off of her aching feet and let her enthusiastically frozen smile relax for a few minutes. She allowed Cragen to touch her shoulder and guide her off of the crowded dance floor, all the while searching the surging sea of genteel faces for that one set of blue eyes. If there was anyone who would know where she could escape the pervasive eyes and greetings, it would be Alex.

Fingers tightened on her shoulder and Olivia gave up on her search to meet the genial, concerned face of her captain and friend. She urged her lips to curve into a smile despite how tired she suddenly felt.

"Can I get you something to drink, Liv?"

Olivia shook her head and forced her smile wider. She could see that glint of worry in Cragen's eye and knew, just knew, that she didn't have to energy to deal with it. "No, thank you," she said, loading her voice with all of the strength and steadiness she could muster. "I think that I'll just sit this one out." She wished that she could think up some little wisecrack about needing a break from having her toes stepped on or some such to put her captain at ease but nothing leapt to the tip of her tongue. So she just smiled and touched his arm and waved gently for him to resume making his social rounds as she pulled a chair out from the table. Gripping the edge of the table, she willed her body to bend without the crutch of a heavy sigh. If she could just rest, she would be fine. A palm pressed against the small of her back.

"You look a little pale, sweet pea. Do you want to go and get some fresh air?"

It was Alex. Olivia abandoned the chair in favor of her cane and nodded gratefully. Alex's hand moved from her back to her hip and Olivia could lean into her girlfriend's body for support without drawing undue attention. She was tired, not a complete invalid. She didn't want to be stared at. And Alex understood. With abundant smiles and gracious excuses, Alex maneuvered them through clumps of tipsy socialites, begging off from joining their conversations and insisting that she couldn't possibly accept another sip of champagne or nibble of shrimp. All Olivia had to do was smile to present a united front and let her girlfriend take the lead.

Soon enough, they were safely shut in an elevator and away from friendly, if exhausting, advances. Olivia allowed her shoulders to sag just a little and took a deep breath. "Alex, where are you taking me? I thought we'd just duck outside for a minute."

"Oh, well, there's still a couple of paparazzi that Dad had ejected hanging around. I suppose, if you'd like to have your picture taken a few dozen more times…"

Olivia waved her free hand and closed her eyes. "Okay, okay," she murmured. "I trust you. Just find me a place to sit, would you?"

A pretentiously analog ding emanated from the elevator's unseen speakers and the car nudged itself into place before the doors slid open. The muted roar of an upscale bar surged into the previously quiet murmur of the elevator and Olivia would have reeled instinctively back if not for Alex's arm around her. If this was Alex's idea of fresh air…

An accented voice rang over the low, jumbled voices. "Miss Alex, I was wondering when we would see you." A small, dark man extricated himself from behind the busy bar and approached them with open arms and an air of definite familiarity. He touched Alex's elbow. "Come, come. I saw your parents' names on the schedule downstairs and I kept your table reserved. What will you be having tonight?"

Alex grinned through the gushed greeting. "I knew I could count on you, Kamal. I think that a couple of Cokes will be fine, thank you." He nodded his exit and Alex held open a glass door, pushing Olivia gently through with a hand on her back. Sure enough, on the long balcony overlooking the city's twinkling lights was a row of little tables and chairs, situated so that all parties could admire the expensive view. Pairs of subdued patrons were dotted throughout and Alex paid them little heed as she guided Olivia to a table at the end of the row that bore a tiny paper card printed with "Reserved." She waited for Olivia to sit before taking her hand and the adjacent seat. "You know, you always doubt me and I always end up saying, 'I told you so,'" she murmured with tender amusement. "I suppose that, since you look so handsome, I can let you get away with it tonight."

Olivia rolled her eyes subtly and brought Alex's hand to her lap, to clasp and caress it more comfortably. "That's very generous of you to offer but you might as well say it. I know you won't be happy until you do."

Nuzzling their shoulders together as they looked out over skyscrapers and taxi headlights, Alex chuckled happily. "You always did know exactly how to satisfy me," she crooned, moving to brush her lips chastely against her girlfriend's cheek. "I so told you so."

Two tall glasses were plunked on the table before them. Olivia shrank back guiltily even as Alex persisted in cuddling her and grinning at the familiar waiter. "Thank you, Kamal. Keep your customers away from my corner and I'll make sure it's worth your while." With an enthusiastic, shallow bow, Kamal vanished and Alex lifted her glass, beckoning for a toast. "To choosing sugar and caffeine over Dom Perignon whenever possible," she murmured. Olivia clinked her glass against her girlfriend's and leaned against Alex's shoulder.

"To choosing." She sipped and tilted her head as Alex's Coke-chilled lips touched her flushed jaw. Olivia had never been one for public displays of affection, especially considering the reception that such caresses tended to receive in public and even more so since coming home from the hospital. Even so, with champagne bubbles and the warmth of familial love buffering her resistance, she was more than willing to allow her feisty girlfriend to have her way, just this once. It just felt so nice and so right, all dressed up and being nibbled by her date, like a girl at the prom. At that moment, if Alex had whispered her request, Olivia would have been first in line at the curb downstairs to flag down a cab to take them home. But Alex merely continued to graze on her neck between sips of soda and Olivia stretched her neck to grant her access while she relaxed in the remote echoes of her beloved city.

As her eyelids sank down, she felt Alex's hand escape her grasp and crawl up the front of her stiff jacket, flicking each bright brass button and coming to rest on the green, blue and gold bars pinned over her chest. She couldn't help but blush and lean away, suddenly self conscious. She wore the breast bars out of a sense of obligation, aware of the endless needling she would receive from Elliot and Cragen if she were to show up without them. Of course she was proud of the honors she had received but there was always a nagging guilty voice picking at her conscience that said, no matter how many medals were pinned to her jacket, they were always outweighed by her failures. She couldn't even protect herself or, more heartbreakingly, she had failed to protect Alex. The weight of brass and enamel was just one more reminder that nothing would ever be as blissfully perfect as it once had been. She folded her fingers over her girlfriend's and pulled the offending hand gently away. "Alex, please."

True to her careful and gregarious nature, Alex leaned back and touched her fingertips to her girlfriend's chin. She waited for Olivia's eyes to meet her own. "Tell me," she cooed softly.

Olivia turned her body away, hiding her glinting medals from Alex's view and biting her lip. "We're not a couple of kids, Alex. We should be downstairs with your parents' guests, not up here necking like teenagers."

Alex made a sound low in her throat, a sort of possessive, derisive mixture of a growl and a grunt. "Please, honey. Mom and Dad are in their element down there and we've been in all of the official photographs already. I always come up here during their little parties. If they needed us, they know where to find us. Besides, I don't 'neck'. You'd do well to remember that. Now, tell me what's really bothering you."

Despite her unease, a snort of laughter escaped Olivia's throat. It was clearly the champagne talking; Alexandra Cabot certainly did not neck like a pimply teen. She wooed, she courted, she seduced. She did not fumble with the niceties of sexual attraction. But that and Olivia's undeniable flush of pleasure were beside the point. She wanted to tell her girlfriend how her touch made her feel, how she wanted her re-introduction to more tender and intimate contact with Alex's body to take place in their bedroom cocoon, without even the chance intrusion of strange eyes or the pressure of professional responsibilities and onerous honors. In short, Olivia wanted Alex to take her home.

After a moment, her tongue caught up with her racing thoughts. "Not here," she murmured, meeting Alex's eyes meaningfully.

Alex's face remained soft and caring for a breath and then, very gradually, curved and crimped into an expression of pure, gentle joy. She understood, understood exactly what it was that Olivia was saying aloud and what she was asking for with her posture and her somber brown eyes. Withdrawing her touch, she took a bracing drink of her cold soda. She inhaled deeply and exhaled. "Okay, Liv. We've done our duty. Let's get out of here."


	60. Chapter 60

Keeping every movement smooth and deliberate, Olivia dug the keys out of Alex's purse and unlocked the apartment's door. No matter how seemingly insignificant the actions were, she wanted to pay special attention to the way her body moved and shifted and how Alex waited patiently at her elbow. With any tic or shiver came the danger that their fragile mood would crack and shatter in a tinkle of tiny shards. Olivia wanted to stay grounded in the present, centered and calm, her expectations and angst kept on tight and controlled reins. One false step and those emotions would gallop away with her and this night would end like so many others had: in failure, in shame, in a tearful cocoon of wrinkled sheets and Alex's sadly understanding arms.

Thumping the key ring onto the hall table, Olivia turned and stepped directly into Alex's waiting hands. She started but, as warm fingers caressed her jaw and the door clicked shut, she leaned into the touch and reached up to remove her hat. Alex stopped her with a coo and a tender smile and Olivia's hands changed course, sliding down her girlfriend's sides to grasp slender hips defined by clingy teal crepe. Her desire took a step forward. Her confidence took a cowardly step back. Suddenly she hardly knew what to do. Long fingers ruffled the hair at her temples and eyes scanned her face, their blue intensity almost physically tangible. She shivered under the pressure of messy and ill-defined emotions. Maybe she should just say no. But… Yet… There was the way Alex was looking at her. She wasn't sure she could say no to that expression.

For the first time since learning the detailed truth, Alex stared at her girlfriend's face and felt completely floored, stunned into silence by Olivia's handsome beauty. She saw only the proudly cocked hat casting a line of shadow over achingly dark eyes, the smudges of sea salt gray in otherwise peppercorn-black hair, the subtle tension at the corners of full, pink lips. Her fingers twitched, yearning to fondle and trace every lovely feature but Alex restrained herself. That would come soon enough. First, she wanted… needed to paint that starkly gorgeous face indelibly in her memory. What was coming would be something special and unique. Alex wanted to remember every wrinkle, every breath, every subtlety of the build-up. Finally, with the silky heat of hair and trembling temples under her fingers, Alex found her voice. "Oh, Liv."

She regretted it instantly. Her statement, as simple and well-intentioned as it had been, seemed to snap whatever rubber-band intimacy connected them and Olivia recoiled, shrinking back from Alex's fingers and retreating deeper into the apartment. Suddenly bereft, Alex watched her girlfriend flee, shedding gloves and hat as she passed by the coffee table. Only when Olivia paused, silhouetted against the silver-lit picture window with one hand braced on the window frame, did the cement binding Alex's feet crumble and allow her to follow.

Without meaning to, Alex traced the exact path Olivia had taken, walking quickly and smoothly, led by an invisible string knotted around her heart. Looping her arms under Olivia's, she curled her hands back around her girlfriend's shoulders and held her tightly. Up until now, Olivia had always had the option of twisting out of Alex's embraces. No longer. Alex had seen too much of her girlfriend's back as she ran away to hide. She knew that Olivia was working to change, to be brave and stand her ground but it was slow going. Alex wanted to be a tether for Olivia, a safety harness with which she could explore but from which she could not escape. Not yet, anyway. Olivia had had her time to herself. Now it was Alex's turn to ask for what she needed.

Nudging her nose and lips against Olivia's soft skin, Alex coaxed her to tilt her head and give her permission to kiss and nibble the shadowy hollow behind her ear. It was Olivia's special spot, tender and sensitive, an inch of her body that only Alex was ever permitted to touch. And Alex loved to claim it, to taste it with the very tip of her tongue and then breathe slow streams of hot air over the moistness. Usually this trick worked like a magic charm, inspiring Olivia to turn and coax Alex's lips away from her ear and into more strident contact. This time… Well, at least Olivia didn't try to pull free. Even with all of the progress they had made together, it was the best Alex could have hoped for. She slid her hands firmly down the lengths of Olivia's arms until she could knit their fingers together. She folded their arms around Olivia's waist, wrapping her in a dual embrace.

"Just relax, honey pie," Alex whispered, taking her lips off of that sweet little spot just long enough to croon her words. She could feel Olivia's determined breathing under her heavy arms and, very gently, Alex began to move their bodies from side to side, keeping pace with her girlfriend's slow respiration. Inhale, sway left. Exhale, sway right. Back and forth in a numbing rhythm, all the while nibbling on flesh lit by the diffuse aura of streetlamps below. Olivia could do this. Alex knew she could. Olivia wanted to do this. Alex could feel it in the way she melted ever so slightly into the embrace. She just needed to keep softening up Olivia's distressing routine fearful self-denial. Patience was key. And, of course, plenty of kisses pressed just behind one pretty ear.

With a cooed instruction for Olivia to keep her hands on her waist, Alex worked her fingers loose and let them crawl over heavy navy cloth to the lowest brass button. She pushed it through the buttonhole and paused to sway once, left and right. She moved on to the next button and repeated the process. And the next. With the least movement possible for both of them, Alex coaxed the jacket off of Olivia's shoulders to toss it carefully over an arm chair. Replacing Olivia's hands over her belly, Alex pulled her girlfriend's shirttails free, slipping her hands underneath and palming warm skin. They swayed. Alex kissed the length of Olivia's neck, from the fold of her shirt collar to the soft prickliness of her hairline.

As she was rocked, Olivia felt pieces snapping slowly into place. The homey coziness of cuddling on the hotel balcony had faded during the trip home but, even as the champagne bubbles evaporated and popped, that same sense of security ebbed back into her body. She took hold of her shirt and, without a word, began to undo the buttons. She had seen Alex seeing her body. Now she wanted to see Alex touching her body. Her fingers stumbled over the last button but, with an effort that would have made even the Hulk proud, she yanked it free and let Alex tug the shirt off. The air was cool on her skin. She turned and rested her hands over the straps of Alex's dress. "Kiss me."

Alex was only too happy to oblige her girlfriend's soft-spoken request, peppering yielding lips with slow, deliberate pecks before ceding control to Olivia and letting her press deeper. As she felt exploring teeth nibbling on her lip, Alex shifted her hands down, inch by inch, gently scratching her girlfriend's bare back until she could caress the softness of her rump. Even after losing so much weight, Olivia still had a nice bottom. Alex had had far too few opportunities to squeeze and toy with that particularly delicious area of her girlfriend's body. She wanted to touch it every day for the rest of their lives.

Eyes seductively long-lidded, Alex turned under her girlfriend's touch and looked over her shoulder, gathering her long hair and holding it away from her neck. "Unzip me, please." Olivia touched her tongue to her lip. That was more like it, Alex thought. That was the look she knew and craved. Alex grinned.

XXXXXXXXXX

Alex stared at the gray ceiling above their bed. She couldn't help but watch the weaving shadow cast by a forgotten cobweb, irrationally wishing she could fetch a long-handled broom and dash it away. Anything, any excuse to run from the oppressive shame and sorrow that seemed to make the air almost too thick to breathe. But excuses were for the weak, not for Alex. She would stay until she could think of some phrase, some touch, that could stop Olivia knuckle-stifled sobs and coax her to loosen the sheet wrapped too tightly around her shaking shoulders. Until then, she would lay still and watch the cobweb.

They had tried. They had tried so hard but, in the end, their efforts accomplished little. At least, that was how Olivia saw it. Alex had insisted that the act of making the attempt was a major achievement, that the mere fact that they were here, together and trying, was all she needed. But her whispered words had done little to ward off Olivia tears of grief. There were simply too many cauterized nerves, too much scar tissue and missing flesh. No matter how much she wanted it, no matter how much Alex wanted to give it to her, Olivia just couldn't feel it, not the way she needed to.

Frustrated and filled with regret, Olivia had made a desperate, love-driven attempt at giving her girlfriend the pleasure she couldn't experience but Alex had been unable to accept it. The sadness and guilt in Olivia's eyes had been overwhelming; Alex could never be so selfish. She had tried to soften her rueful refusal with a kiss and a caress but Olivia had turned away, curling on her side and comforting herself with cotton sheets and muffling hands. Alex's words only inspired hastily hidden chokes; her tentative touch, an instinctive flinch. So Alex lay on her back, arms folded over her waist in a flimsy facsimile of a hug, and waited.

She heard a hiccup, maybe a word. She turned her head and rested her fingertips on the tender spot between Olivia's shoulderblades. "What was that, sweetie?"

"I'm sorry."

Alex pressed her whole hand flat over her girlfriend's spine and rolled up onto her elbow, looking down at Olivia's half-hidden profile. "Olivia Benson, do not say that to me. Not ever, not about this. Those bastards should be sorry, not you. Never you. Tell me you understand that."

Olivia hunched her shoulders defiantly, leaning away from Alex's insistent touch. She growled through clenched teeth even as her voice continued to shake. "What am I supposed to say, Alex?"

Alex sighed and her body sagged. She collapsed wearily back onto the pillows and withdrew her hand, suddenly deflated. "I don't know. Say anything you want, just… not that." If Olivia wanted to fight, she could go ahead and try. Alex was tired, frustrated, angry. She just didn't have the strength to run up against Olivia's brick walls. Not now, not tonight. She held her tongue and resigned herself to weathering the onslaught she knew was coming in silence.

But it didn't come. Instead, the mattress shook under her exhaustedly stiff body and a hesitant hand crept over the sheets to rest lightly on her belly. The silence in the bedroom expanded and expanded until, like a balloon stretched too far, it popped. They both rushed to speak.

"Sweetheart…"

"Alex, I'm…"

A breath and a heartbeat.

"You first, Liv."

"I… I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm just so angry. Not at you, at myself. No…" She waved for Alex to be quiet as the blonde moved to hush her. "No, not at myself either. I don't know. I don't know how to… do this."

Alex rested one hand over Olivia's on her belly and with the other, wiped away the tears that had gone cold on her girlfriend's cheek. She attempted a smile but couldn't seem to hold it in place. She abandoned her cloyingly familiar litany of reassuring phrases and falsely bright expressions and just let her face reflect her own sadness and tired frustration. Olivia was strong enough for honesty now. It was the only way that they both could heal. "I don't know either, sweet pea. We're in this boat together. All I know is that we tried and I'm proud we did. Do you regret it?"

Olivia pressed her cheek forcefully against the pillows, wishing that she could hide her face even as the thought of such cowardliness repulsed her. She ground her teeth and pushed her voice angrily from her throat. "No. I just… I want…" With a furious growl, she yanked her hand away from Alex, turned onto her back and bashed the mattress with the side of her fist. She couldn't run or dance properly, she couldn't fuck, she couldn't even speak her mind. She felt useless. She felt hellishly angry. But, she also felt love: love for Alex; love from Alex. She could at least rein in her fury and save her lashing out for later. For Alex's sake. She uncurled her straining fist. She took a breath. "No, I don't. Not really. I… I just want to make love to you. The right way."

Alex scooted close and pressed her knees to Olivia's thigh, her forehead to Olivia's temple. She liked the scent of her girlfriend's skin, salty and faintly reminiscent of freshly starched dress clothes, and she liked its warmth. "I want that too, Liv, very much. But I can wait. And I hope you know I will. We can keep trying. We can go to the doctors and see if there's anything they can do. Hell, Olivia, we can do nothing but sleep in this bed if need be. I just want to be with you and make you happy." As she spoke, she knew her voice became thin and almost harsh. She could see the way Olivia pressed her fingertips to her lips. There was just nothing she could do.

Olivia's voice was only the softest whisper, spoken through stiff fingers, but Alex still heard every word. "We'll figure it out. I just need time. And Alex…" She turned onto her side, folding Alex's hands against her trembling chest, and met her girlfriend's gaze directly. "You do make me happy."


	61. Chapter 61

Spreading a spare towel sloppily over the sofa, Alex flopped down and stretched her long legs, luxuriating in the shakiness in her muscles and the promise of pleasant soreness later in the day. Slowly but surely, her endurance was returning and she was able to run longer and faster. She had just completed a six mile circuit of her neighborhood, covering much of what she had once considered her happy hunting ground. Skirting unpredictable, bleary-eyed commuters and counting the steps required to pass enormous skyscrapers imbued Alex's mind and body with a pleasurable sense of accomplishment and calm composure. Really, on-foot with the chill of early fall air burning one's lungs was the only real way to enjoy Manhattan. A little exertion and even the strongest scent of city garbage became almost sweet.

Bending her spine this way and that until she drew the tension out of one hard-to-reach muscle, Alex slid her laptop across the coffee table and onto her knees. Sure, she needed a shower but her core was overheated while her skin still stung with cold. A few minutes to let her body rest and equilibrate wouldn't hurt her any and Olivia was still snoring peacefully away in the bedroom, too close to the bathroom to sleep through the racket of a shower. In the meantime, Alex decided to do a little web-surfing in pursuit of an idea that had popped into her thoughts somewhere around mile four. She needed more information before she even considered bringing it up to her stubborn, somewhat prideful girlfriend. Without the proper defenses in place, Olivia would shoot any proposal down before it had hardly lifted off. Still, Alex thought that this particular idea might be one worth pushing.

For Alex, her frequent outings to jog were opportunities for meditation and deep thought. There were always problems to confront and pressures to bear and, before each run, she preferred to choose one issue on which to focus. In the distant past, Alex had often used the time to map out some of her most successful closing arguments and lines of questioning. This morning her problem of choice had been the disastrous results of the previous evening's exploits. The pursuit of sexual relations had been weighing heavily on Olivia's mind in recent weeks and they had made several attempts though last night had been the most successful, despite the frustrating way it had ended. Olivia wanted it so badly. Alex was desperate on her girlfriend's behalf. There simply had to be some way, some therapy, some procedure, something that would make it easier for her.

Clicking through her Google search results, Alex scanned, frowned and moved on. Maybe she had been wrong after all, maybe this wasn't going to pan out. And then, scrolling through a block of text, words began to pop out at her: PTSD; sexual dysfunction; emotional benefits. Unconsciously, a grin of hopeful anticipation curved her lips and she quickly tapped in the command to print. It sounded perfect. There were offices right here in Manhattan. All she had to do was call and schedule an appointment. Well, all she had to do was convince Olivia to let her call and schedule an appointment. Suddenly, however, engaging in that battle of wills didn't seem quite as onerous a task as before. Alex was convinced. This was undeniably, unassailably, unquestionably a good idea. It could be exactly what they needed.

Retrieving the freshly printed sheets of paper, Alex paused at the bedroom door, listening for waking sounds from within. There was a definite audible rustle, a shifting of sheets, and, after a moment, a sweetly half-irritated coo. Alex pushed the door open and couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Like Alex, Olivia was sitting up, laptop balanced somewhat precariously on her knees. Unlike Alex, Olivia had a dog with perpetually itchy ears to contend with. Whatever she had been working on was clearly not going quite as smoothly as it could have but it didn't seem to be bothering her. Not much, at least. Even as she laughed, Alex moved to stand at the foot of the bed and put her hands sternly on her hips. "I feel like we've had this conversation before, you big softie. No dogs on the furniture." Olivia peeked out from behind the tall dog standing half over her lap and, though only her eyes were clearly visible, Alex could tell she was smiling.

"Yes, yes, dear," she crooned. "I'll wash the sheets for you. But really, when have you ever known me to say no to big, pretty blondes?"

Alex harrumphed and practically dove back into the mess of warm sheets and squirming bodies. She cuddled close to her girlfriend and kissed her cheek, chuckling and waving her hand as Blondie wagged and licked her ear. "Big? You give me one excuse and I'll show you big. You know, I only keep this girlish figure so that you'll stick around and marry me. The moment we sign that paper, I'm going to get fat, fat, fat. You just wait, sugar plum. I've got a whole wardrobe of flowery muumuus all picked out." She pursed her lips and set upon Olivia's long neck, nibbling and noshing with obnoxiously loud gusto.

Olivia pressed her lips together, stifling her wild, ticklish laughter and deflecting Blondie's happy advances, directing her cold, wet nose towards Alex's sweat-sticky body. Olivia had already been nuzzled into obligingly scratching submission; Alex could clearly use a round of doggy kisses to temper her goofy mood. As Alex was distracted, turning her attention to roughing up Blondie's short fur, Olivia noticed the all-but-forgotten papers and plucked them out of her girlfriend's hand. "What do you have here, hmm?"

Her eyebrows went straight up. Massage therapy? Really? She let the hand holding the paper fall to her lap and turned to look Alex in the eye. Sensing the change in the mood, Blondie settled down to lay over her mistresses' feet and Alex ran her palm one last time down the length of the dog's back before meeting Olivia's questioning look. "Alex, I don't want…"

Anticipating, Alex sat up straighter and picked up the papers, flipping to the second page and pointing. "Wait, Liv, look here. They have classes for couples. They'll teach us how to do it correctly. You can work on me and I can work on you. No nudity, no strangers touching us. It's perfect. Read it and tell me what you think." She paused, refraining from biting her lip, hanging on her girlfriend's every breath as Olivia reluctantly read the printed information. Finally, Olivia sighed and again raised her eyes.

"You really want to try this, huh? You think it might help?"

Alex nodded, serious and eager.

"Okay, we can do it. Once. Then… we'll see." She was doubtful. Never a real fan of medical science and its often cruel implementation, Olivia was even leerier of what she considered "hippie-dippie quack science". But she could see the earnestness in Alex's posture. And it wasn't as if Olivia's efforts were exactly paying off. After last night, she was willing to give almost anything a shot, especially something that Alex was so clearly interested in. One appointment lasted only an hour, a single hour out of a lifetime, and there was a chance, a slim chance, that it would do them some good. It certainly couldn't hurt. She simply had to cave and let her girlfriend have her way. Once, at least. Besides, she had been doing a little research of her own and she was excited to share her own ideas with Alex.

Drawing her laptop so that they both could see the screen, Olivia glanced at Alex and rolled her eyes a little. Alex was beaming with glee. There was no other way to describe her expression. Olivia curled her fingers under the curve of Alex's jaw and tickled her a little condescendingly. "Alright, smelly. You got your way. You're welcome. Now, look at this." She pointed at the computer and scrolled back to the top of the webpage. "I've been thinking… thinking too much, actually. I need something to do. I feel like I'm going crazy, sitting around all day. I mean, I can't go back to work but… I think I can do this." Alex reached out, adjusting the tilt of the screen and resting her chin lightly on Olivia's shoulder.

"ASPCA…" she read softly aloud, "Animal Assisted Therapy." She paused and read more quickly, her impossibly bright grin stretching even wider. She cocked her head and looked at her girlfriend. "Liv, it's perfect for you. And Blondie. I've never met a sweeter pair of mutts." Olivia snorted, giving Alex's attitude no more of the attention Alex wanted, and scrolled down a little further.

"I just… I think about… I spent a long time in that damn hospital. I wish that I had had this dog to keep me company." She chuckled as Alex's smile twisted into an expression of slighted pride. "Oh, don't be offended, Alex. Just… Blondie is a much better kisser. I like a little more tongue than you have to offer. And her breath. Well, there's just no comparison."

Huffing determinedly, Alex rose up onto her knees and took both of her girlfriend's grin-plumped cheeks in her palms. "You want terrible breath and lots of tongue, sweet pea? Well, you're in luck. Have I ever got a treat for you."


	62. Chapter 62

**Thanks to BensonFan711 for coming up with, as I call it, The Name. I loved it and had to use it! **

Tugging the edges of her thick robe higher on her neck, Olivia folded her bare feet as far underneath her chair as possible. The soft-worn floor felt nice on her toes, warm and smooth, but she couldn't help a flush of self-consciousness. Even after months of poking and prodding examination by more doctors and nurses than she could remember, exposing her feet to a stranger's eyes was still a nervous prospect for Olivia. They were a shocking sight even to her own eyes; she couldn't blame anyone else for wanting to gawk. But that didn't mean she had to enjoy it. Taking a deep breath, she consciously urged her shoulders to relax from their tense set and nudged Alex's terrycloth-covered thigh with her own. "Alexandra Cabot, of all the spas in New York, what in the world made you pick this one?"

Alex laughed, a wonderfully relaxed sound, and gave the little room a fresh once-over. This was no ordinary spa. There were none of the usual posh accoutrements: no calming stone fountains; no frosted glass; no fragrant cedar woodwork. No, this hole-in-the-wall spa was cramped and stuffed to the ceiling with glinting crystals, mirrored wall-hangings, and posters of blue-skinned women with eerily wide eyes. Even the bathrobes, cuddly as they were, had tags announcing that they were spun from bamboo fibers. Alex was sure that, to Olivia, this room represented every aspect of New Age, flower child, Hare Krishna hell. But there was a reason for Alex's choice, one which Olivia would learn very shortly, and even with the wild décor, Alex sort of liked the goofy little spa. The air was plenty warm and humid and sweet with lavender. The music was soothing and blessedly free from the twang of sitars. And, as Alex knew, the masseuse was someone special. "What, Liv? Don't you like it?"

"It's… different." Olivia narrowed her eyes, her face good-natured but nonplussed. "If anyone sticks magnets on my toes, you're going to owe me for life." She paused. "And if you think I'm going to start chanting 'Om', your life isn't going to last long." Alex reached to pinch her arm teasingly but withdrew her hand, straightening up in anticipation, as a soft knock sounded at the door.

A friendly pair of eyes peeped in through the crack and then the body followed, slipping in and closing the door gently. "Namaste, goddesses. I'm Aspyn." Without warning, the strange, dreamy-eyed woman touched Alex's jaw and pressed her lips to her forehead. Olivia choked off a snicker as she glimpsed the quick red flush rise on Alex's cheeks and then felt the chuckle die of embarrassment as those same lips were applied to her own forehead. This was turning out to be amazing, a real-life caricature of a lifestyle that Olivia had just about convinced herself had died out sometime before 1976. She half wanted to grab her shoes and run, half wanted to stick around to see what amusing turns this session was going to take. Instead, she simply pressed her lips together to hold in her humor and waited.

Aspyn – sweet God in heaven, what a name – smiled widely and held out both of her hands, waiting patiently for her customers to place their hands in hers. She closed her eyes as if about to say grace over Thanksgiving dinner. "May we be healed from past pain and open our hearts to new life, new love. Enable us to move forward, to see the beauty of your ways and experience divinity through all things living. Please grant us the gifts of patience and kindness, hope and reverence."

Still restraining her nervous humor, Olivia cracked one eye open and peeked at her girlfriend, aiming to share a pointed look to mark how utterly ridiculous she found the entire experience but Alex's face was serious, her eyes closed. Second guessing gut reaction, and how well she really knew Alex, Olivia straightened her face and tried to take the surroundings and the obviously passionate prayer in her stride. She was enduring this for Alex, to make her happy and to strengthen their relationship. She owed Alex her best efforts to make it work. Aspyn released her hand and patted the surface of the massage table.

"I'm so glad you two womyn have made yourselves at home here. How are you enjoying our robes?" Aspyn's tone was changed, light and positive now that she had evidently completed her ritual. Gliding about the room as she went about her preparations, she launched in to what had to be a warmly familiar explanation about the relative benefits of using bamboo over cotton while Alex answered her gesture, waiting for Aspyn to turn away before disrobing and settling herself under the sheet. "Wonderful. Now," she said gently, in her odd, sweet way, "please stand here, Olivia."

Barely even given a chance to wonder how this bizarrely peaceful woman had guessed their names, Olivia found herself standing at the side of the massage table over her prone girlfriend, Aspyn's hand pressed flat over her chest.

"Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are."

Olivia looked at Aspyn, unable to help a glint disbelief in her eyes. Aspyn returned her gaze with a look of utter calm and self-assurance, removing her hand from Olivia's body. "It's a Chinese proverb. Hold out your hands." Olivia complied. What other choice did she have? They were already into it now. The least she could do was to give Alex a nice rub-down. Though, she had to admit to herself, she was feeling more and more reluctant to ever consent to lie on that table herself. Alex being intimate with her was one thing. Doctors looking at her was another. But, laying on a towel while this oddball prayed over her tense muscles? Well, that was a horse of a different color.

Warm oil slid over Olivia's fingers and pooled in her palms. Olivia looked at her teacher, even smiling a little as a warm scent filled her nostrils, pleasant though she could not immediately identify it. Aspyn rubbed her hands together in encouraging demonstration and indicated Alex's lower back. "Like this," she said, holding her hands out and aping placing her palms against Alex's pale skin. Olivia obeyed, placing her slick hands flat on the smooth planes of her girlfriend's back and allowing a second grin of pleasure tickle the corners of her lips as Alex sighed with anticipation. Aspyn fiddled with the CD player for a moment, turning up the volume and choosing a specific track. A sensuous, soothing whoosh of music pervaded the tiny room and, underneath it all, Olivia could detect a deep pulse. Aspyn nodded in rhythm, her eyes pointedly fixed on her student's. Olivia began to move her hands.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Time is a burden we all share and I feel I must say that the time has come for you to receive, Olivia. Please take a moment to relax your mind and take Alex's place on the table." Aspyn smiled dreamily and slipped from the room, somehow aware that these two women would need a minute before they could move on. Her knowing exit made Olivia shake her head a little but she quickly set the thought aside.

As soon as the door clicked, Olivia searched in vain for a paper towel, huffing in frustration and rubbing her oily hands on the sheet Alex had set aside. The half-sleepy rhythm of stroking Alex's skin in which she had been lost disappeared in a breath and she began hunting for her clothes. "Okay, Alex," she said hurriedly. "That was great but let's ditch and go home." Retrieving her slacks from under a chair, Olivia opened her mouth to continue but stopped as she caught sight of Alex's face. She had never seen Alex look so… relaxed.

Well, not in years, anyway. Not even when she was asleep. No traces of tension or worry remained in her expression, not even in those little lines at the corners of her lips which always gave away Alex's secret stress when the rest of her façade was firmly in place. She sat up on the edge of the table, her posture straight but rested, her naked body shiny with oil and flushed pink with simple pleasure. Her hair was mussed, she was sticky and silhouetted against a luridly pink New Age poster but… she took Olivia's breath clean out of her lungs. "No."

Olivia gaped. "What?"

"No. I'm staying. You can do what you want."

Frozen in place in the middle of shoving one leg into her pants, Olivia stared at her unabashedly naked and eerily calm girlfriend. Her jaw moved. Her brain worked. Her tongue searched to form syllables and words. But nothing came out of her mouth. There was just no arguing with a face like… like that. Anything she did manage to say, she knew would just fall flat. While her mind searched for the right come-back, her body moved as if of its own volition. She put her pants down. She handed Alex her discarded robe. She finally clamped her jaw closed.

"Aspyn will be back soon." Alex slid onto her feet and cinched her robe. "Lay down, sweet pea."

Olivia hesitated, her eyes twitching between the obnoxiously blue door, her girlfriend's gentle expression and the newly vacant table. She wanted it, wanted that serenity the massage had delivered to Alex. She wanted it from Alex's hands, exactly the same way her own hands had worked her girlfriend's flesh. But… but… Her fingers touched the belt of her thick robe and, before she could sort out her thoughts, she was pulling a fresh sheet over her shoulders and resting her cheek on the table. There really was something bizarre about this place, she thought to herself. Alex stroked her short hair. The door creaked slowly open.

Just as she had done with Olivia, Aspyn placed her flat hand just over Alex's heart. "Sit quietly, doing nothing. Spring comes and the grass grows by itself." She smiled and gestured for Alex to move the hem of the sheet to Olivia's waist. Suddenly spurred into action, Olivia hunched her shoulders and rose to her elbow, holding out her hand. Her gaze flicked away from Alex, to Aspyn, and back again.

"Wait…"

Taking a step forwards, Aspyn took Olivia's outstretched hand and squeezed it gently. "Do not be ashamed, Olivia. I want to show you something." One last tight grasp and Aspyn took hold of the hem of her flowy blouse with both hands. She tugged it free. Olivia stifled a gasp. Alex smiled, sad and knowing. Aspyn turned a little and held out her arm to permit Olivia to see, displaying the flesh left exposed by her tank top without a trace of self-consciousness.

"I don't show everyone who comes to me," she said quietly, answering Olivia's unspoken question. "But sometimes, I meet someone I can help. Don't be afraid to look."

Overcoming her momentary shame, Olivia did look, examining the whorls and ripples of what remained of the skin of Aspyn's arm and shoulder. Those kinds of scars… a fire? A pot of boiling oil? Whatever had caused burns like that must have been horrifying. Devastating. Olivia lowered her gaze.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? This? It wasn't your fault. It wasn't my fault. It just happened. It's just skin." Aspyn touched her chest and smiled, the dreamy distance briefly gone from her eyes as she connected with her hesitant guest. "In here, I'm beautiful. I'm a goddess. And so are you."

Olivia took a long breath, unexpectedly touched by this seemingly screwy woman's gentle insight and naked honesty. A twinge of regret plucked at her heart, regret for her own body, regret for whatever had happened to this near-stranger. But here she was, here they all were, crammed into a steamy room in a bizarre array of biodegradable clothing and damaged flesh. An invisible hand pressed down on her shoulders and, for once, the pressure wasn't suffocating. She welcomed it for what it promised: release from her chronic fear and tension; hope that her future would hold some sort of peaceful contentment. Very slowly, Olivia placed her cheek back onto the table and moved her arms to her sides. Maybe a massage really was exactly what she needed. Drops of warm oil puddled in the small of her back. Wandering music caressed her ears. Olivia closed her eyes.


	63. Chapter 63

Shifting so that her head rested more comfortably against Olivia's collarbone, Alex dabbed her fingers dry on a convenient towel and turned the page of her book. She could feel Olivia sighing and cuddling sleepily under her, made sedate by the massage and now by the deep, warm bathwater. Alex felt the same pleasant heaviness pooling around her elbows and ankles but, as she read and examined color diagrams, she also grew very clearly awake.

Something unquestionably good had happened today. As much as her kneaded muscles urged her to just put the book aside and sink down until water lapped at her chin, Alex simply couldn't. She had picked it up after a very pointed recommendation by Aspyn and she made a mental note to send that woman a Free-Trade thank you note. Every page somehow touched on a hope she hadn't known she had or presented a solution through therapeutic touch to problems she hadn't yet thought of. Her interest had been piqued and, in typical Cabot-fashion, she had to know more. She wanted to know it all.

Turning yet another page, Alex traced her finger over a stepwise diagram until a dripping hand gripped her wrist. Alex turned her head just enough to catch a glimpse of her girlfriend over the tops of her thick black glasses.

"Alex, please. Give it a rest."

"But wait, sweet pea, listen to this…" She drew a breath to read aloud but let the air stream out without sound as her now-wet hand was drawn back, the palm pressed to beloved lips.

"Put it away."

Hot, moist breath dampened her skin. Alex practically tossed the heavy book onto the bathmat, ignoring the loud clomp. Olivia had just made an argument Alex couldn't refute. She tickled Olivia's cheek with the fingers of her captive hand even while her palm was nibbled and kissed. She smiled in serene delight, plucking the glasses off of her nose and sending them the way of her book. She had the feeling that she wouldn't be needing them any time soon. "That feels nice."

Olivia hummed and dragged Alex's fingers over her jaw and throat and settled them at the nape of her neck. Alex moved to roll over a little. Olivia touched her temple, urging her to just stay still. "I went through with your idea," she crooned softly. "Now you're going to do what I want." She brushed her fingernails across the most sensitive point of her girlfriend's throat and waited for that one shift that would tell her that Alex was ready, relaxed and receptive. Nudging her nose against Alex's scalp, she inhaled warmth, soap, a sweet remnant of oil and incense. The scent tickled her nose and she sank back into the dense pleasure she had felt just an hour ago.

Even the décor, the odd prayers and archaic quotes, hadn't damped the power of Alex's fingers over Olivia's body. There was just something about Aspyn's dreamily patient coaching, her unhampered openness and dedication to her craft, that had wiped away the hesitation from Alex's hands and imbued them with strength and perfect confidence. Olivia had felt the same quiet assuredness when she had mimicked Aspyn's motions and felt Alex practically turn to pudding. She had felt powerful in a way no gun or bout of kick-boxing practice could inspire. She wanted to chase that feeling.

Brushing Alex's hand away from her midsection and into the water, Olivia walked her fingers over her girlfriend's taut, supple skin, probing for the softness that remained despite Alex's best efforts to run it off. She touched flat abs, tickled ribs, playfully searching for an inch to pinch and eliciting a chuckle and a swat. Olivia raised her knees up, cradling her girlfriend's body more completely, and flattened her hands. Sweat and water made their skin slick and Olivia slid her palms up to caress an A-cup breast and down to stroke the top of a slender thigh. She sighed through her smile. She could make this happen. Wanted to make it happen. Alex squirmed.

"Liv…" Alex's meaning was a protest. Her tone… was something very different.

Olivia nuzzled the remains of an elegant hairstyle into a fuzzy mess, blowing cool air against Alex's steamy temple and warm air over the red-flushed curve of her ear. "You owe me, honey. I wore bamboo. I rubbed Buddha's stomach. I read a poem about finding the pearl inside of my oyster. So just be still and be quiet and relax." She took the edge of Alex's ear between her lips and sucked gently. Of all things, she knew that this would break through of Alex's last fragile web of resistance. Every woman had her special spot, after all. It worked. Alex hissed very softly and tilted her head encouragingly. Olivia obliged, punctuating her glee with just a little hint of her teeth and grazing one delectable nipple with her fingernails.

"I love it when you do that," Olivia whispered.

"Do what?" Alex's voice was low and sugary. Olivia nipped her again to coax yet another hiss of air through clenched teeth.

"That." Alex moaned heavily and Olivia snaked one hand between her girlfriend's pliable thighs. A flush of excitement tingled in her fingers and the tip of her tongue. Alex's moan was for her and her alone. That blotchy blush, redder than even the steamy water could make it, was the result of her teasing and her touch. Relaxed and secure under the weight of her girlfriend's body, Olivia felt an intoxicating sense of authority. Yeah, she still had it.

Alex gasped, the sound bouncing exhilaratingly off of the damp tile and fueling Olivia's enthusiasm. She lowered her head to kiss and nuzzle her girlfriend's cheek as Alex arched her back down, pressing her shoulders sensuously against Olivia's breasts. Resisting the urge to hold her breath, Olivia moved her fingers in a slow pattern, hesitant at first and then with greater confidence. There had been a time when she could have played Alex's body like a hillbilly plays a banjo. But years and life had come between that time and the present. Olivia had to explore Alex's body, re-learn her scents and sensations, the changing timbre of her voice as her pleasure built and the soft sighs as she floated back to Earth. For a moment, as Alex stretched her arms back to scrabble at short hair, Olivia closed her eyes and just… forgot.

She forgot everything that had happened to her, everything that had happened to Alex. Forgot that she was supposed to be frightened and full of shame. They were just two women who loved each other, just the way they had been, just the way they were now and, in the future, they would be this way again. Alex's spine relaxed, vertebra by vertebra, until every inch of her body was leaden, sunk deep in the water. Olivia folded her in a tight embrace. They were still just Alex and Olivia. And that would be okay.


	64. Chapter 64

October the twelfth. Olivia hunched her shoulders under the drab yellow glow of a streetlight and repeated the date to herself. It was just another day. An ordinary day. It came and went every year. It came last year. Now it was back. October the twelfth. Olivia lifted her chin. It was just a date. And this was just a bar. She stared at the dull brass lettering over the door before her, watching as snowflake after snowflake alit in the curves and corners. Sam's on 8th.

Gritting her teeth together, Olivia worked one hand from deep in her jacket pocket and, without looking, held it out. Familiarly slender fingers curled around her palm and Olivia gripped them tightly, drawing strength from the touch even as the unseasonably cold wind stung her flesh. No amount of chilly weather could change the fact that Alex was here beside her, warm and alive. Not here in this city she loved. Not even as she braced herself to face the place in which her descent into hell had begun. Pressing her lips together, Olivia stepped across the sidewalk, through the ongoing straggle of passersby, and up the concrete steps.

A blast of warm, boozy air sloughed the chill from the creases of Olivia's clothes and her damp hair. She shuddered despite the cozy temperature. That scent… there had been a time when she would have welcomed it, signaling as it did in those days that her work was over for the time being. Now it was just a reminder. Swallowing her sudden nausea at the sickly sweet odor, Olivia forced her feet to follow the familiar path to her customary end of the bar.

Stashing her snowy coat on an empty seat, Olivia slid stiffly onto a leather stool and rested her forearms against the bar's dark wooden edge, folding her hands together and glancing around. She gave thanks for all of the differences, big and small, between this October the twelfth and the last she had spent here. Alex was with her now. It was snowing. The bar, usually crowded or at least busy, was mercifully deserted. Alex's hand closed over Olivia's tightly knit ones. A roundly chubby man sidled down the length of the bar. "What'll it b…"

Stunned recognition stretched the bartender's gruffly crinkled face, choking off his routine question. He gaped, stuttering, "Detective."

Olivia did her best to smile. He was an old acquaintance. She wanted… needed him to stop staring as if she were a ghost. "Chris. Hi."

Her words, soft as they were, did the trick. Chris snapped his jaw shut and gave his head a brusque shake. He reached under the bar for a glass. "Your usual then? It's on the house." He clinked a couple of ice cubes into the glass and plucked a thick bottle of amber liquid from a shelf.

"Wait. No." As the color drained from her cheeks, Olivia stretched her hand instinctively out to stop him. She didn't know if she could bear the taste of scotch, in this bar, from this glass. She didn't… She couldn't… Breathing through her nose to calm her spiking fear, Olivia relaxed back onto her seat and returned her hand to Alex's grip. "Yeah, Chris. My usual. Thanks." He glanced quickly at her and then poured. He thumped the glass down in front of her. Olivia indicated Alex with a nod. "She'll have the same."

While he prepared the second drink, Olivia stared down into her own. She hadn't meant to push herself this far but, then, she had felt that pang of fear. She resented the fear, hated it with every cell in her body. Fear was to be felt only when there was a reason to be afraid, not here and not now. There was no drug lurking in her scotch, no evil men lurking in the shadows. It was just a drink in a bar she used to love. Lifting her glass, she turned to Alex. "To… to us. And to one year behind us."

Alex mimicked her girlfriend's motions, touching the rim of her glass to Olivia's. Heedless of the antsy bartender, she brushed her lips against Olivia's cheek. "To us," she whispered, turning her gaze politely away as Olivia took her first sip. Alex knew the story. Olivia needed to do this on her own, needed her girlfriend to be her silent partner. She took a drink and grinned genially at the bartender. "Chris, right? I'm Alex." She extended her hand.

Obviously glad of the friendly distraction, Chris nodded and returned her gesture, his calloused hand dwarfing the blonde's. "Trust me, I know. No, no…" He quickly shook his head to put Alex at ease. "Not from the papers. Me and some of the boys have been betting on you for years. In fact there's this one assh… sorry, jerk who still refuses to for over the ten-spot he owes me."

Now it was Alex's turn to gape. Betting? On her? Taking a bracing sip of her drink, Alex raised her eyebrows and let her glasses slide down her nose.

Chris only chuckled with meaty gusto. "I suppose, since you had the balls to come in here, I ought to give it to you straight. So Olivia, here, she's been dropping in for years, right? And there was always some damn pretty boy… you know the type… trying to get her attention. So, maybe, she lets it drop about dating some schmu… sorry, someone named Alex. Course, being that getting information out of a detective is like pulling nails out of lead… well, we started taking bets." He guffawed, slapping his thick palm against the bar and pouring himself a generous slosh of scotch.

As he drank, Alex snuck a look at her girlfriend. Olivia's glass rested on the bar, held in a loose grasp, while her other hand was pressed flat against her eyes. Alex considered. In the worst case, Olivia was having a silent panic attack while Alex and Chris laughed beside her. In the best case, Olivia was about to get into serious hot water with her girlfriend and knew it. Alex laid her hand on Olivia's shoulder. Thankfully, Olivia uncovered her eyes.

Letting the warm tingle of scotch loosen her tongue, Alex smirked. "Well, Detective, are you just going to sit there and hide or are you going to defend my honor?"

Olivia scowled at Chris, only barely repressing the humiliated grin that tugged at her lips. "I thought bartenders were supposed to keep secrets, not spill their guts to every time a blonde walks in." Alex nudged her in the ribs, clearly communicating how deeply offended she was, and Olivia retreated to her corner, lifting her suddenly light glass to her lips. The cloying aroma of her drink swirled in her nostrils but, this time, the nausea it inspired was only a shadow of its initial strength. She set the glass back down and spun it slowly. She closed her eyes.

She thought back, skimming over the past twelve months to revisit her memories of that night for the hundredth time since arriving under the streetlamp outside. So many things were different now but many things were the same. The good things were the same. Her ears were filled with laughter. Her stool was comfortably and reassuringly secure. Her drink had the same peaty strength that she appreciated in good scotch. Yes, fear still pricked her heart but, as Alex nudged her playfully and Chris ruefully described the beating he had taken offering odds against Alex's female gender, Olivia felt that she could endure it. The fear was just another scar, a mark that would fade and soften over time. Scars were signs of survival. Laughing with friends was a sign of living. One could still live with scars. Olivia could live with scars.


	65. Chapter 65

Arching her back, Alex rolled onto her back and pointed her toes, stretching her deliciously sleep-softened muscles. She hadn't slept like this in months. No, they hadn't slept like this in months, so soundly and for so long. Yawning widely, she grinned at the quiet tip-tap from the floor on Olivia's side of the bed. Apparently, Alex wasn't the only one already stirring. She stretched out her hand and rubbed her palm over Blondie's smooth-coated back. The dog danced a little under her hand. Alex sighed. Continued comfort would have to wait; someone had to pee.

Creeping carefully out of bed, Alex shivered and she reached hurriedly for her robe. There was a definite chill in the usually warm apartment's air this morning. She made a mental note to check the thermostat as she wriggled into a pair of jeans. Closing the bedroom door silently, Alex jammed her already chilly feet into a pair of thick socks as she hopped awkwardly down the hall to the kitchen. At least there would be coffee by the time she and Blondie made it down to the street and back. She clicked the button of her prepared coffee pot and frowned. Jiggling the plug in the socket, she clicked it off and back on again. Nothing. Of course.

A goddamn blizzard in the middle of October, she mused with irritation. They had only just managed to skitter their way back from Sam's the previous night, ending up soaking under the shower's hot spray to thaw out their frozen fingers and toes. And now there was no power. And no coffee. Stuffing her arms into her heavy coat and wrapping it tightly around herself, Alex stuffed her pocket with a few small bills and clipped the lead onto Blondie's collar. She had to go out anyway. Maybe the power hadn't been out too long and maybe the bodega down the block might have managed to brew a pot of coffee beforehand.

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Practically juggling her coffee and sacks of goodies, Alex let herself back in, yelping whispered orders for Blondie to sit and stay before the entire apartment became spotted with slushy paw-prints. Dumping her purchases on the kitchen counter, she snatched a dishtowel and mopped the melting snow first from the dog's coat and then from her own hair. Already the snow was almost a foot deep and it was still coming down in heavy gusts. The power was out in blotches all over the city and utility crews, despite coming out in full force, were struggling to keep up with the repairs. All in all, with the impossible amount of snow and downed tree limbs on every corner, it looked like Manhattan was going to be shut down for the foreseeable future.

Well, at least Alex had had one stroke of good luck. By some miracle, the resourceful bodega-owner had a portable gas-fueled burner behind the counter and had just brewed a veritable vat of strong, hot coffee. Scrounging together the change in her pockets, Alex had bought as much as she could carry. If she and Olivia were going to be stuck, she wasn't going to risk being stuck without coffee. Shucking her drippy outerwear, Alex gathered up her goodies and headed back towards the bedroom. She had risked life and limb to care for Olivia's dog and find Olivia her beloved coffee. It was time for Alex to get her due: warmth and appreciation.

The moment Alex opened the bedroom door, Olivia's eyes popped open and she greeted her girlfriend with a sleepy smile. Sitting half upright, she yawned and patted the mattress near her feet. As Blondie hopped up and curled into a ball, Olivia rubbed the dog's still-damp ears absentmindedly. She blinked at Alex. "You went out? In this?" She gestured vaguely at the heavy snowflakes slapping wetly against the window.

Depositing her plastic sacks on the comforter and the coffee cups on the nightstand, Alex huffed self-importantly. "Well someone had to. A certain someone's dog had to go sniff a fire hydrant and a certain someone was sleeping like a rock." Peeling her clothes off in favor of a fresh set of warm flannels, Alex winked at her girlfriend. Slipping between the blessedly cozy sheets, she kissed Olivia on the cheek. "Also, in case you're interested, that same someone has developed quite a habit of snoring."

Olivia chuckled and took the offered coffee, leaning her shoulders against the headboard and opening her arms to invite Alex to snuggle against her chest. She sipped her coffee, sighing at the simple pleasure, and nuzzled her cheek sedately against Alex's snow-wet hair. "Aw, I'm sorry, sweetheart. Did I keep you up?"

Sipping away herself, Alex shook her head and dragged the dog-weighted blankets up towards her shoulders. "No, I don't mind. It's kind of cute actually. It's kind of like…" Grinning slyly, she mimicked an exaggerated snore, filling the dim room with an obnoxious imitation of a hopelessly clogged sewer. Without looking, Alex sensed Olivia's exasperated eye-roll. Even Blondie lifted her head and pricked her ears in surprised curiosity.

"Thanks a lot, Icicles. Now, either show me what's in those bags or take your cold feet back to your side of the bed."

Extracting her arm reluctantly from the covers, Alex tugged the sacks onto Olivia's lap and buried herself even deeper under the comforter. "See for yourself. I only had enough cash on me for the coffee but Kwon was nice enough to send some supplies back with me on credit. For some reason, he insists that he trusts you. Must be the badge. Or maybe that pretty face of yours." Tilting her chin up, Alex asked silently for a kiss but was disappointed. Pouting in a particularly undignified manner, she set her coffee aside and sneaked her cold hands under her girlfriend's pajama top, seeking warm flesh and making Olivia jump.

Olivia hummed appreciatively as she rifled through the sacks, flipping through glossy gossip rags, crinkly packages of salty snacks and quite the stack of chocolate candy. Squirming away from the cold fingers tickling her waist, she shot Alex a sidelong glance. "Planning on gaining some weight, Willy Wonka? I can't remember the last time I saw you eat a candy bar."

"Maybe. Maybe I'm planning on fattening you up." She shifted in mock discomfort. "You make a very bony pillow. "The weatherman on KCBM said that this storm is not letting up and we could be here a while. I thought we could put that time to good use, say… have you gain a solid pound for every inch that falls?"

Harrumphing, Olivia withdrew a small, white paper bag and peered inside. Instantly, despite her indignation, her face brightened with glee. "Oho," she crooned, grinning. "If that's the case, you won't mind me eating the only chocolate-glazed then." Holding up the greasy pastry, she savored the sweet aroma with exaggerated enjoyment before taking a large bite.

Snickering, Alex nibbled on the delicate skin of her girlfriend's neck. "And when that donut goes straight to your thighs, you won't mind me eating you."

Swallowing, Olivia held out the donut for Alex to take a bite. "To shut you up," she said pointedly.

Enjoying her chocolaty treat, Alex settled back down as Olivia continued to nosh. She let her fingers crawl upwards, over her girlfriend's stomach and between her breasts until she could press her palm over Olivia's heart. "Liv?"

Olivia hummed, her mouth full.

"I'm proud of you." Under her flat hand, Alex could feel the motions of Olivia swallowing. She could hear her girlfriend sucking the last bit of chocolate frosting from her fingertips, an obvious effort to buy some time to adjust to the suddenly changed mood.

"For what?" Olivia finally managed softly.

"For last night. I don't… I don't think I could have gone back… there."

Olivia chuckled consolingly, abandoning her coffee and squeezing her girlfriend tight to her chest. "Please," she said with a hint of disparagement. "You always say things like that and make me feel like some kind of martyr. It's embarrassing. Besides, you came back from Wisconsin. That took balls."

"That was different. I had to come back for you."

"So, not only am I a saint but I'm also responsible for you risking your life by coming back."

Alex sat up sharply, pulling free of Olivia's arms and staring her down. "Olivia, stop it. You know what I'm saying."

Olivia met her gaze, equally stubborn. "And you know what I'm saying. I'm… proud of you too." She narrowed her eyes for a moment before the tic at the corner of her lips stretched into a real smile. Reaching out, she tugged her weakly resistant girlfriend back into her embrace. She threaded her fingers in long, pale hair. "Okay, I think we've made our points here. Let's just relax and have another donut, huh?"

Snaking her arm around the small of Olivia's back, Alex reached for the white paper bag with her free hand. "Agreed." Selecting a second donut, Alex offered Olivia the first bite. "Here. To shut us both up." She too took a bite and, smiling as she munched, laid her head on Olivia's shoulder. Maybe, if she was lucky, the storm would last all week.


End file.
